


Beethoven and the Perils of Missed Opportunities

by queenvenus



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Drama, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2020-11-24 14:01:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 33,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20908823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenvenus/pseuds/queenvenus
Summary: Adrien thinks it started in the rain. Alya thinks it started with the cupcakes. It doesn't matter either way, because what begins is a series of events that shakes up both their worlds and the people around them. Maybe it was better when they followed the rules.





	1. Chapter 1

Adrien is laying down on a school bench, eyes squeezed tight in an effort to block out every source of light and sound. His head is pounding something awful, and if he makes even the slightest bit of movement his skull will crack apart. School ended only minutes ago, and Adrien Agreste feels dread pool in his stomach at the sound of students flooding the halls. Everyone was so _ loud _, today. Adrien could barely focus on the lesson, the ceiling lights were far too bright for his eyes. 

He had been pushing himself this past week, going to school, extracurricular activities and lessons in between. Not to mention superhero work. It’s a wonder he even had a chance to breathe right now. But that doesn’t matter, if he can just get a few minutes of uninterrupted quiet, he’d be okay. Just a few minutes…

“Adrien?” 

It takes everything in him not to curse out loud. It takes even more effort for him to crack his eyes open and turn to the person speaking to him. 

“Yeah?” he asks, eyes straining. Marinette Dupain-Cheng is standing before him, blushing at him with those bluebell eyes of hers. Alya is standing beside her, and she glances down briefly to tap away at her phone. 

“A-Are you okay?” Marinette asks, peering at him worriedly. “You look a little...pale.”

“M’fine.” he responds, and manages a smile. To prove his point, Adrien slides to his feet, trying his best to ignore the horrible lurch in his stomach. It was time he got going, anyway. He had piano practice soon, and he had to be on time if he was going to finish his homework. “See?”

Marinette’s face turned several shades of red, and she gave him a smile that nearly split her face in two.

“Y-Yeah! You look...you look...fine.” she stammers, and her eyes widen. “Not like, damn you’re fine, but. You know.” 

Adrien nods, and the motion makes his head feel like dead weight on his neck. He blinks, vision suddenly blurry. 

“We’re hanging out at Luka’s today.” Alya pipes up, smiling at him. “Do you wanna come?” 

Hanging out at Luka’s house sounded really nice, and the thought of not being able to go only worsens Adrien’s mood. 

“I’d like to, but I don’t think my dad will let me.” He runs a hand through his blond locks, and Marinette makes a funny noise inside her throat. “I’ve been having a really busy schedule this past...month.” 

Alya give him a sympathetic look. “Maybe you should take the day to get some rest.” she advises. “You _ do _ look sort of pale.” 

Adrien is about to respond that yes, he should get some rest, and he plans to do so right away when he gets back home. It’s easier to lie at times like this, because the truth would just depress them. The truth is that Adrien would spend his whole day with his nose in a book or playing a song on the piano that never seemed to satisfy his father no matter how beautifully he played it. He’d stop Hawkmoth is his tracks once again and watch as the love of his life resists his advances once again in favor of a stranger that holds her heart. He wouldn’t really get any sleep until later on tonight, when his spiralling thoughts and exhaustion would finally force him into slumber. That was too much to say, however. A simple “Yeah, you’re right.” would put everything to rest. 

He doesn’t get to say anything like that, however, because his knees give out from under him and he drops to the floor. 

“Adrien!” Marinette cries, and she’s at his side, voice sharp with panic. “Don’t move! Oh, are you okay?!” It’s garnered a crowd, and suddenly a few students from class are looking at them. Adrien, through the rush of heat flooding his body, feels completely embarrassed. He knows they’re only worried, but it still irritates him. Was it too much for him to faint from exhaustion in peace without everyone staring? 

Marinette is squawking, hands fluttering around him like nervous birds in flight. People are starting to gather around them, watching as the always put together Adrien Agreste sits on the floor, head slightly bobbing as he tries to keep himself upright. Through all the commotion, Alya gives a sigh and slips her phone into her pocket. She moves past Marinette and kneels down. Adrien suddenly feels a hand at the back of his knees and he starts. Alya is trying to lift him off the ground.

“Alya,” he says, voice slightly slurred. “It’s fine...you don’t have to…”

Instead of answering, Alya takes his arms and slips them around her neck despite Adrien’s best efforts to pull away. Then, in one fluid motion, Alya Cesaire is lifting Adrien Agrests bridal style. She jostles him a little so that he fits more comfortably in her ams and starts walking off without a word. 

Marinette can only stammer and follow. Adrien is still trying to protest, but to no avail. He’s just so _ surprised _ that Alya can carry him with such ease. He wasn’t heavy, per se, but Alya was much shorter than him, and she was the last person he’d ever expect to do something like this. If he’s heavy, she doesn’t let it show. She carries him like she would a little kid, and he has no choice but to give in.

In the end, Adrien sits in the nurse’s office, ignoring the texts from his driver out front of the school. 

“Thans, Ahya.” Adrien says, words clumsy from the thermometer under his tongue. She looks up from her phone, and gives him a brilliant smile. 

“What’re friends for?”

Adrien stays home from school the next day, burning with fever. Nathalie does her best to help him, and it hurts Adrien to think that his father was too busy to even see if his only son was okay. It’s ridiculous, because what else could Adrien expect from the man? He had been eating dinner alone for years now, a simple cold wasn’t going to change anything, but still. Angry and miserable, Adrien is burrowed under his covers, stewing in the fact that he had to miss school and his father _ clearly _ didn’t care about his well-being and nobody had texted him all day and that he was currently sweating through his shirt and would have to put on another one…

There’s a sudden knock on his door that interrupts his flow of miserable thoughts, and Adrien pokes his head out of the covers at the same time Nathalie sticks her head in his room.

“Adrien?” she whispers. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” he responds, wincing at the ache in his throat. Nathalie shifts, and her eyes dart to something beside her before she glances his way again. 

“There’s someone here to see you.” she says, and steps out of the way. Alya then swaggers into his room, eyes glinting behind her glasses. 

“Yo.” she greets, grinning at the shocked look on Adrien’s face. She settles into his room as if she has done so every day of her life, sitting on one of his couches and rubbing a hand across the leather. “_ Wow _, this couch is nice.” Nathalie can only manage to blink in shock, and shakes her head before closing the door. 

It takes a minute for Adrien to get his thoughts together, and even longer to form a coherent sentence. What comes out is a hoarse, “What are you doing here?” and Alya gives him a sympathetic look. 

“I came here to see you! Didn’t you get my texts?” Adrien blinks and looks to his phone that is way across the room. His earlier frustrations about nobody texting him dries up, and he gives an embarrassed half-smile. 

“No, sorry.” He wants nothing more than to lay back down, but finds himself unable to fully relax in her presence. This was the first time in his memory that someone other than Nino had come into his room....No, scratch that. He vaguely remembers helping Lila study that one time. A thought occurs to him. 

“Shouldn’t you be in school?”

At this, Alya gives him a deadpan look. “Adrien, school ended like, an hour ago. Everyone hopes you feel better, they were all pretty worried about you.” Adrien inwardly cringes. So everyone knows about him falling over at school yesterday, which also means they know about Alya carrying him to the nurse’s office. Great. Alya must notice the embarrassment on his face because she smiles at him. 

“Aw, don’t worry, Adrien. If anything, this will pass in a day or two; and you’ll be feeling better by then, anyway.” Adrien’s shoulders relax, and his smile is more genuine this time. 

“You’re right, thanks.” 

Alya gives a distracted, “Uh-huh.” She’s digging through her book-bag and sets a folder down on his desk, and it’s only then does Adrien notice that Alya has a plastic bag hanging on her wrist. She checks her phone and pushes her glasses up to her face. She walks over and plops the plastic bag onto his bed with a wink. 

“Here you go.” she says, and heads towards the door. “Ms. Bustier said take your time with the homework. Get well soon!” she gives him a wave and slips out of his room, shutting the door softly behind her. 

Not ready to tackle his missing work just yet, Adrien fishes through the plastic bag. There’s a bottle of orange juice, a small bottle of medicine and a warm chocolate chip cookie. Adrien can’t help but smile. He unwraps the cookie and bites into it. He knows that chocolate probably isn’t the best thing for him right now, but he can’t bring himself to care. The cookie, and the girl that gave it to him, are just too sweet. 

* * *

As it turns out, the minute his cold leaves, the stress appears. Adrien manages to keep both in check for nearly a month straight before things take a turn for the worst. He catches up on his homework, gets straight A’s in all of his subjects, and even manages to hang out a couple of times with his friends. But one day, on a rainy spring afternoon, Adrien loses track of time when all of his friends crowd into the art room, coming up with new mask designs for Kitty Section. 

The atmosphere had been so warm and friendly despite the dreary weather outside, that Adrien had forgotten all about his rigid schedule. His driver had waited outside for ten minutes, then twenty. When forty-five minutes had passed, he had left, thinking that perhaps Adrien had gotten a ride home by other means.

It isn’t until Adrien checks his watch does he see the time. An hour has gone by already, and his jaw nearly hit the floor. He leaves in a flash, smiling apologetically at the crestfallen expressions on the faces of Marinette, Nino and the rest as he darts from the art room, up several flights of steps and out the front doors of his school. Adrien pants, trying to catch his breath as his eyes scan the street. 

His driver is nowhere to be found, but that doesn’t surprise him. His chauffeur was never a patient man, and he must have waited for almost an hour before driving off. Adrien closes his eyes and swears, he’ll never make it back to his house in time for his piano lesson. He can’t bear to think about what his father was going to say, much less Nathalie… 

Anxiety coils tightly in his stomach as he steps out onto the sidewalk. Nervously, Adrien checks his phone again. He thinks about calling Nathalie, but slides his phone back into his pocket. He doesn’t want to call her, he doesn’t want to call anyone. He just wants to go home without another lecture or a disappointed glare. 

“Hey!” Adrien jumps and looks to the street. Alya Cesaire is at the sidewalk, a helmet over her head as she steadies herself on her bike. She waves at him. “Come on!” 

Without a word, Adrien runs to her. He stands on the bike pegs and places his hands carefully on her shoulders. “Alya,” he says, feeling unease battle with the anxiety in his stomach. “A-are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, it’s raining and all…”

“It’s better than you running in this mess.” She puts her feet on the pedals. “Now, hold on tight. I don’t have an extra helmet.” Alya adjusts her grip on the handle bars and pushes off. She weaves through the heavy traffic and rain-slicked streets with relative ease, but Adrien is tense the entire ride. He can’t bear to think of what would happen should Alya lose control because of the rain, or if they happened to come across a reckless driver. He doesn’t know how she manages to ride with her book-bag strapped to her, along with him on the spokes and his too-heavy book-bag as well. If the combined weight is a burden, she doesn’t show it. 

“How are you doing?” Adrien asks as Alya banks a corner. 

“Fine!” she calls back over the rain. He’s worried about her glasses. Would she be able to see properly? “I used to do this for Marinette all the time.” 

“We’re almost there.” Adrien blinks, and hesitantly uses one hand to wipe at his face before quickly placing is back on Alya’s shoulder. He risks glances at this watch and realizes they’re making good time. If Alya keeps up this pace, his father would only be mildly angry instead of that quiet steely anger he got whenever he was really furious. Alya suddenly swivels, barely managing to avoid a speeding car, and Adrien sucks in a breath. 

“Sorry!” Alya calls, and mutters something under her breath that sounds vaguely like, “speedy jackass…”

The ride goes smoothly the rest of the way, but Adrien digs his nails into Alya’s book-bag straps anyway. 

By the time they get to his house, they are both properly drenched, and Adrien leads them into his house. He instructs Alya to take off her shoes and runs in his socks to fetch them both towels. When he comes back, he nearly slips and falls to the floor. Alya is dripping wet, shivering on the spot. 

Gabriel Agreste is standing before them, stern and accusatory. 

The air he exudes is frosted and old, like a library shut away to rot. Adrien swallows, and he can feel a familiar heat rising to his face. If he was getting another cold Adrien was certain he was going to scream. There are a few moments of uninterrupted awkward silence before his father speaks. 

“So,” Gabriel says, voice clipped. “I see you’re late. Again.” 

“Uh, yeah.” Adrien responds, feeling water drip down his back. “Time sort of got away from me.” He goes to pass Alya a towel and she takes it quickly. It’s only then does his father take notice of Alya. He observes her soaked appearance and there’s the barest curl of his mouth that shows the disgust on his face. 

“Your driver called and said he had been waiting outside for an hour.” Gabriel says, the barest hint of impatience creeping into his voice. “I would’ve thought that you would know the importance of punctuality by now, but I guess I was wrong. What exactly were you doing that caused you to be so late coming home?”

That’s a loaded question, one Adrien knows his father already knows the answer to. He can’t even bring himself to wipe the water off his hair. The very idea of being scolded in that icy tone of voice, right in front of a friend, is mortifying. Right now, Adrien feels smaller than he ever thought possible. “I was hanging out with some friends,” he responds, and Gabriel’s mouth presses into a thin line. 

“And I suppose that hanging out with your friends is more important than your schoolwork? Or the extra lessons that had to be cancelled because time just ‘got away from you?’” 

Adrien bristles, and the first flares of anger ignite in his chest. “I didn’t say that.” he retorts, and Gabriel gives him a patronizing look. 

“You didn’t have to, you being an hour late says it all. I don’t know how you expect to graduate when it’s clear you have no respect for time or the effort I put in to make sure you get the best education possible.” Something akin to a smirk crosses Gabriel’s face. “Perhaps that isn’t the best school for you. Maybe I should look into something further away from all of these... distractions.” Adrien can feel a lump in his throat, and it only makes his face burn hotter. There’s a fine tremble in his hands that he can’t control. He blinks, trying to dispel the sting in his eyes. Adrien absolutely _ cannot _ afford to cry right now. He never has before, and he sure as hell won’t do it now. This is the most his father had ever spoken to him, and it was nothing more cruel mockery.

“Dude, I seriously think you need to chill out.” Adrien jumps, he had completely forgotten Alya was here. Her voice had cut through Gabriel’s tirade, and they both turn to face her. Gabriel’s glare is sharp enough to cut, but Alya only meets his glower with an irritated look of her own. Nobody had ever spoken to his dad like that. It only took a simple gaze from him to have Nino practically sprinting to the door. 

And here was Alya, staring up at Gabriel Agreste without even a trace of fear. It was incredibly daunting, but Adrien manages to shake off the surprise in hopes of catching her eye. 

“Excuse me?” Gabriel says, squinting down at her. “And who are you?”

“I’m Alya Cesaire. I’m his friend.” 

“Well, _ Alya _ ,” her name is practically hissed through Gabriel’s teeth. “I hope you realize that you are in no position to tell me how I should act around _ my _ son. This conversation doesn’t concern you.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t. But Adrien obviously didn’t mean to be late getting home. If I hadn’t given him a ride here, he most likely would’ve ran all the way home in the rain.”

“An effort in futility, I see, since the two of you are a mess anyway.” 

“I guess scolding your son while he’s soaking wet is more important than making sure he doesn’t catch a cold. Again.”

“If my son gets sick because of his irresponsibility, that’s no fault of mine. Perhaps it’ll teach him a lesson.”

“Your son gets sick because he runs himself ragged trying to live up to _ your _ insane expectations! Maybe someone should teach _ you _ a lesson on how to be a better parent.” Alya cocks her hip and folds her arms, peering up at Gabriel with all the sass and fire in the world. Adrien can’t believe what he’s hearing. He’s starting to think that maybe he’s suffered a stroke and is hallucinating, because there’s no way Alya just said all of that to his dad. Rage crosses Gabriel’s face, and he appears almost ruffled. To think, a simple high-school girl could flummox and unnerve the most intimidating man in all of Paris. 

“Get out of my house this instant.” Gabriel growls, and Alya tosses the towel onto the floor with as much flair as possible. 

“Gladly.” she retorts, and spins on her heel, flipping her hair so that the rain droplets from the ends of her hair flick onto Gabriel’s pristine expensive suit. She puts her shoes on without untying them and leaves, the front door clipping shut behind her. 

When Gabriel turns back around, his face turning several shades of red, and he finds Adrien has left. 

In the safety of his own room, Adrien quickly strips off his clothes and puts on a pair of fresh pajamas. He lays down on his bed, the heels of his palms pressing into his eyes. The lump in his throat has gotten bigger, and it blocks the sobs rising up inside. It doesn’t quell the tears, which slip out of his eyes despite his best efforts. Somewhere, he hears shuffling, and it can only be Plagg rising from his place in one of Adrien’s desk drawers.

“Adrien, are you okay?” 

Slowly, somewhere deep inside, the urge to cry is replaced with a strange sort of laughter. It’s an odd mix that swirls inside his chest. Adrien’s shoulders shake with the effort to keep himself composed. He can’t believe what just happened. 

“I’m fine, Plagg.” He removes his hands and looks at Plagg with teary eyes but a steady smile. “I’m fine.”


	2. Chapter 2

Alya is still reeling. 

It’s been exactly two days since she told off Adrien’s dad, and she’s certain that things are ruined. Alya had been biking to her house when the realization hit her that she may have gotten Adrien into some serious trouble. It’s just...she had gotten so angry listening to Adrien’s jerk of a dad scold him like that. Didn’t he realize how many hoops Adrien jumped through just to keep him happy?

But as much as she hated to admit it, she supposed Mr. Agreste  _ did _ have a point. It really wasn’t her place to say anything, she had completely overstepped her boundaries in someone else’s home. She’d have to apologize to Adrien later on, that is, if he wasn’t too mad at her. The minute Alya had gotten home, she immediately phoned Marinette and the two spent the next couple of hours talking over the phone. Marinette couldn’t believe that Alya had been so bold, and they were still whispering about it during lunch. 

“Alya, I  _ cannot _ believe you.” Marinette said, through bites of a cheese danish. “I mean...I just...wow!” Marinette isn’t angry, but she’s torn between laughing and worrying. It was true that Alya was the bolder of the two, but she was never one to tell off adults, especially one as intimidating as Gabriel Agreste. 

“Do you think Adrien’s mad at me?” Alya said, worrying her bottom lip. “I really didn’t want to get him into trouble.”

“Adrien will forgive you.” Marinette assures her, and that familiar dreamy expression crosses her face. “He’s kind and understanding and charismatic…”

“And he’s coming this way.” Alya noted with a playful smirk. “You might wanna wipe up your drool.” 

“What?!” Marinette wipes at her mouth and gives Alya a stern look. “That isn’t  _ funny _ , Alya!” Marinette shoves her in the ribs with her elbow and Alya can’t resist a snort. Adrien saunters up to them, and Alya can feel her bravado fail her. 

“Hey guys.” Adrien slides in beside Marinette, who nearly falls over in an attempt to make extra room for him. 

“Adrien, I’m really sorry about what happened with your dad.” Alya leans over to face him, frowning apologetically. “Are you in trouble?” 

“Uh, I don’t really know.” Adrien confesses, and Alya’s face falls. “I mean, he hasn’t really spoken about it since.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Adrien fans his hand at her apology. “It’s no big, Alya. Honestly, I’m a little in awe of you right now.”

Alya’s smile is timid. “Really?”

“Yeah, you should’ve seen yourself.” Adrien furrows his eyebrows. _ “Dude, I seriously think you need to chill out.” _ he mimics her, his voice way too high and girly. 

“Stop!” Alya cries, her face is red in embarrassment, but she’s laughing all the same. “I don’t sound like that!” 

“Yes you do.” Adrien says, and he winks at her. “But I’m really okay. No need to worry.” he glances down at Marinette’s lunch. “Hey, is that danish?” 

Marinette nearly cuts a finger trying to slice the danish in half, and she slides a piece over to him shyly. 

Later on, when Marinette and Alya head back to class, Marinette is still staring at Adrien. 

“Do you think he liked the danish?” she asks, face pink and eyes dreamy. 

“Of course! Did you see his face?” Alya encourages her. “Next time, you should tell him you made it” At Marinette’s hesitance, Alya pushes her glasses up to her face, exhibiting a maddening air of wisdom. “There’s no better way to a guy’s heart then through his stomach. It’s a labor of love, and that’s the first step.”

When Adrien gets back home, he’s surprised to find that his father is sitting in the dining room, posture ramrod straight as usual. Adrien is so used to just going right up to his room that he almost walks past him. He does a double take at the staircase and retraces his steps, standing in the doorway. 

“Father?” Adrien speaks up, and Gabriel Agreste looks up. “Is...something wrong?”

“No,” his father shakes his head. “I...I actually wanted to talk to you. Sit down.” Then, he blinks and clears his throat. “Uh, please.” Hesitantly, Adrien takes a seat across from him and sets his book bag down onto the floor. Gabriel clears his throat again and straightens his tie. He looks as if he’s gearing up to give an important speech, but can’t bring himself to do so. He almost appears  _ timid _ , and that’s how Adrien knows that whatever his father wants to say is worth listening to. 

“I just wanted to apologize.” Gabriel starts, pushing up his glasses. “You have been catching colds a lot recently, and it was only until your very... _ opinionated _ friend pointed it out did I really begin to consider all the pressure I’ve been putting on you. I realize now that perhaps all of your extra lessons and activities may be stretching you rather thin, and I’d rather you not miss anymore school on account of that.”

Adrien can only blink in shock. Never would he have expected his father to say all of this. He had always hoped somewhere inside that his father would see just how hard he had been trying to please him. But never did Adrien imagine it would actually happen, like, in real life. That was a secret fantasy he had always favored but never had the courage to speak aloud.

“If it’s okay with you, maybe we can...eliminate some of your extra lessons, just until you feel more adjusted.”

“Yes!” Adrien nearly leaps out of his seat. Taking away a lesson or two would give him more free time. Trying not to appear so eager, Adrien leans back in his chair. “Er, I mean, yes. That--That would be nice.” 

“Good.” Gabriel fiddled with his tie again, unable to meet his son’s eyes. “Adrien, be honest with me. Do you...Do you think I’m a bad parent?”

Adrien doesn’t know how to answer that. He wouldn’t exactly call him Father of the Year, but he wasn’t terrible. Then again, Adrien couldn’t just ignore all those years he spent eating alone and the emotional distance he felt for his father. Like all children, Adrien felt the need to squash down any seed of doubt that would paint his father as anything less than perfect. Adrien furrowed his eyebrows. 

“I think you’re trying, and that’s what counts.” 

Something akin to a smile flicks across Gabriel’s face before it is smothered with his usual placid expression. He gets up to leave.

“Wait!” Adrien says, and his father stalls. “There is something you can do for me, if you want.”

Gabriel looks surprised, but nods seriously. “Of course. What is it?”

Adrien musters up a hopeful smile. “Eat dinner with me?”

Rena Rouge is catching her breath. As much as she loves catching akumas and defeating Hawkmoth, all the running and jumping over rooftops leaves her winded pretty quickly. She really needs to get back into her daily workouts if she’s going to keep up with Chat Noir and Ladybug. She can’t afford to slow them down. 

“Tired already, foxy lady?” Chat Noir’s voice is smooth like velvet and Rena stands up, putting her hands on her hips. 

“Hardly, kitty.” she retorts, giving him a coy look. “Just trying to see if you can catch up with me.”

“Careful now,” Chat Noir bumps her hip with his. “I might just take you up on that.” he flashes her a brilliant smile, eyes playful and Rena Rouge covers her mouth with a dainty hand. She always found Chat Noir to be rather cute. With a smile like that, anyone would think the same. 

“You seem in a pretty good mood today.” she observes, and he shrugs. 

“Things appear to be looking up in life.” Chat Noir smoothes back his hair with a gloved hand. “With my luck, Ladybug will be falling into my arms in no time.” 

Rena Rouge wasn’t so sure about that, but Chat Noir looked so hopeful that it was hard to tell him otherwise. Besides, she was as hopeless a romantic as he was. Who knew what could happen? 

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, you’ve been looking a little tired lately.” Rena dares to say, and Chat Noir flips his hair.

“Being Paris’ number one heartthrob isn’t easy, but someone has to do it. It was bound to wear me down sooner or later.” 

Rena Rouge can’t help but laugh. She had been worried, of course. But, as expected, Chat Noir always seemed to bounce back from anything with that same flirtatious grin and a glimmer in his eye. It was unbelievable, being this close to him.  _ Laughing _ with him. Alya was certain no other girl in Paris was as lucky as her. Her necklace beeps, and disappointment surges in her stomach. She wanted nothing more than to spend more time with her two favorite superheroes. Leaving was torture for her. 

“I gotta go,” she says, giving him an apologetic look. Chat Noir nods, and he gives his signature bow before taking her hand and bestowing it a delicate kiss. 

“Until next time, Rena Rouge.” he purrs, just as Ladybug swoops into view. A graceful flash of red and black. Ladybug loops her arm through Rena’s and guides her away, reassuring Chat Noir that she’ll be back momentarily. 

From the safety of a nearby building, Alya Cesaire watches Ladybug and Chat Noir reconnect over a Paris rooftop. They talk for a moment or two before they both leap off the building and disappear from view. Walking home, Alya feels content, satisfied with another day of hero work. But somewhere deep inside, she can’t help but wonder who Chat Noir was beneath his mask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter is up! Please comment and tell me what you think! Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Alya is an organized young lady. She’s no slacker when it comes to homework, and she always does it the minute she gets home. No hanging out with friends, no texting, no three hour gab sessions with Marinette. She sets her books on her desk and for the next hour and forty-five minutes she’s gone to the world, calculating algebraic equations and finishing rough drafts of essay papers.

Homework came easy to her, which is why it’s such a shock that she’s having so much trouble with her paper. Ms. Bustier wanted an 11 page report on the French Revolution. When she announced that the paper was due in a week, there was a large collective groan from a majority of the class. Ms. Bustier had merely smiled and told them that if they worked diligently, those eleven pages would fly by in no time. Alya wasn’t worried. Eleven pages? Please. She could do that in her sleep.

Except she couldn't! As interesting as the French Revolution was, Alya just couldn’t get the words to flow. She had written notes and went to the library, stocking up on every book she could find on the subject. She had her notes, both on paper and on stickies, all neatly tucked away in a folder. They were _ color-coded _ for God’s sake, why couldn’t she just...write it?! The deadline was at the end of the week. 

Mrs. Bustier had announced the paper on Monday. 

It was Wednesday. 

Alya had secluded herself in the library, books stacked around her like a paper fortress, and did her best to dig in her heels and get the work done. She had found her laptop too distracting and decided to write it all out on paper. She had her best pen out and a few fresh sheets of paper on hand in case of mistakes. Marinette usually accompanied her in times like this, but she was wanted in the bakery. Alya had to admit, it must’ve been hard trying to juggle school work and help out with her parents business at the same time. 

Knowing that only made Alya even more determined. If poor Marinette could write her essay, finish the rest of her homework, and help out in the bakery, then she could write this paper! It just took a bit of focus, that’s all. 

Alya spends two hours with a blank sheet in front of her before she gathers her things and leaves. 

Okay, so the library didn’t help. That was fine, there were plenty of other spaces that she could go to that would help get her writing. Her bedroom wasn’t an option. Despite her discipline, Alya could get lost in the world of television if she wasn’t careful. She had her phone safely tucked away in her pants pocket. She couldn’t afford to distract herself by talking to Marinette, even if she so _ desperately _ wanted to. 

Alya walks out of the library and sits on the front steps of her school. She hates this. She’s going to fail. Discouraged, Alya groans and places her forehead on her knees, blocking out the world. 

“Alya?” 

“Leave a message.” is her immediate, despondent reply, and Adrien’s laugh makes her smirk into her knees. 

“Is everything okay?” 

Alya looks up at him with a pitiful expression, giving a pout for added effect. “I can’t write my paper. It’s due Friday and I haven’t even started!” she makes her puppy-eyes bigger. “You’re a genius, Adrien. Can’t you help me?” 

There’s a brief pause, and Alya is just about to tell him that she was joking (she couldn’t impose herself on him), before Adrien’s face brightens. 

“Actually, I can.”

“Really? You can?”

“Yeah. My dad is giving me some time away from my extra lessons, so I have a lot of free time now to just, y’know, do whatever. You can come over to my house and you can write the paper there.” 

Alya blinks in surprise. “Wow,” she replies. “That’s…” she doesn’t know how to finish. For some reason, the word “great” just doesn’t seem to cut it. She rarely saw Adrien outside of school, and she knew just how much he wanted to hang out more with the rest of his friends. She didn’t think his dad would be so willing to change his mind all of a sudden. 

Adrien must’ve been thinking the same thing too, because he meets her eyes and grins even wider. 

“Yeah, I know. It came as a shock for me, too. But you’re welcome to come over, if you want.” 

“Yes!” Alya nearly slips down the stairs in her attempt to stand up. “Yes! Adrien, that sounds wonderful!” 

“Cool,” Adrien fished his phone out of his pocket. “Let me just text my driver…”

Ten minutes later, Alya and Adrien are walking into his house. She had only been in his house twice, but she still couldn’t get over how extravagant everything was. They were just about to head upstairs when the familiar click of Gabriel Agreste’s shoes sounded on the marble floor. He appeared into view, as stony faced and impeccably dressed as always. He raised one eyebrow at the two of them.

Alya immediately felt herself blush. Of course, the possibility of running into Adrien’s dad had occurred to her, she just didn’t think it would actually happen. Adrien had given enough hints for her to know that he rarely ever saw his dad. She had been hoping that she could sneak into Adrien’s house, finish her paper and then leave without catching sight of the man she told off days ago. 

“Adrien, welcome home.” Gabriel said, though his voice still sounded dry and stern. He looked then to Alya, who was shriveling up like a dying flower. Her eyes immediately darted to the floor, and she cleared her throat. Better to get this over with as quickly as possible, like ripping off a band-aid. “Alya Cesaire.”

“Good afternoon, sir.” Alya greeted him as politely as she could. “I’m sorry for my behavior the first time we met. I was out of line, and I’m very sorry.” She’s not sure if she should say more or not, and she doesn’t get a chance to, because Gabriel speaks up. 

“I appreciate your apology, Ms. Cesaire.” That’s all he intends to say, but Adrien is looking at him expectantly and he presses forward. “You’re...welcome here any time.” That seemed a bit much, but he can’t take it back now. Alya looks much more comfortable and Adrien actually smiles. He doesn’t have time to correct himself, because they’re already excusing themselves and heading upstairs. 

Adrien leads Alya to his desk and she begins to take out her papers and books. Adrien cracks his knuckles and immediately takes a seat at the piano. Alya organizes her papers and turns around to face him, raising an eyebrow.

“What’re you doing?” she asks. 

“I’m playing. It should help you focus.” Adrien explains. 

“Music doesn’t help, trust me. I’ve tried.” 

“Really? What did you listen to?” 

At this, Alya clears her throat. “Uh, Blackpink?” Adrien gives a _tsk_ and rolls his eyes.

“Oh, Alya, you can’t listen to Blackpink and study. Blackpink is dancing music. You need something a little more...muted.” Alya still looks doubtful, so Adrien puts his fingers on the keys. “Just trust me. This always works for me.” 

Alya shrugs, and begins to pull out her phone. “Alright then. But I still don’t see--”

“Put that away.” Adrien instructs her suddenly. 

“Huh?”

“No phones. It’ll distract you.”

Alya pouts. “Can’t I just text Marinette first? She’ll go nuts when she finds out I’m spending time in your room.” 

Adrien gives her a funny look. “What do you mean by that?”

Oh, crap. She didn’t mean to say that. “Uh, nothing! Just...it’s nothing. Here, I’ll put it away.” she slips her phone into her bag and focuses on her notes. Goodness, that was a close one. Still, that gives her an idea. Study dates could spark romance, right? She’ll have to see how Marinette feels about that. 

Adrien begins to play. Alya can’t recognize the piece, but it doesn’t matter. It takes her a minute to start, pencil poised in the air, but eventually she gets started. Alya doesn’t know how long Adrien plays for, but it must’ve been for nearly half an hour. And by the time those soft notes trickle out, Alya has finished five out of the eleven pages of her essay. She flexes her fingers and takes a look behind her. 

Adrien is rubbing his hands together and flashes her a smile. “So?” he asked. “How’d you do?”

“Five pages!” Alya says triumphantly. “Adrien, thank you so much!” 

Adrien shrugs. “You just needed the right atmosphere, that’s all.”

“Yeah, but I still need to finish six more pages before I’m done.” The thought of writing for another hour causes a twinge in her hand. 

“You can come over tomorrow. The paper isn’t due until Friday, right?”

“You want to do this _ again? _” Alya says, surprised. “Won’t you get tired of playing?” Adrien laughs at that. 

“I’ve played pieces for nearly three hours. An hour and a half is no problem.” Adrien gets up from his piano chair. “There’s only one thing I’d like from you.”

“Sure,” Alya agrees. “What is it?” 

“You need to bring some snacks.” 

The next day after school, Alya packs snacks for her and Adrien. She’s picking up a bag of chips before a thought occurs to her. She thumbs through her phone and calls Adrien, who picks up on the third ring. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, Adrien. If it’s okay with you, could I add an extra person to our study session today?”

“Sure, that’s fine with me.”

Alya jumps in excitement. She ends her call with Adrien before speed-dialing Marinette. 

“Hello?”

“Hey girl, are you busy?”

“No, it’s a slow day at the bakery. Why?”

“How would you feel about a study date with Adrien?” Alya purrs, and Marinette’s conflicted yelling over the other line makes her grin. 

“H-How did you...I mean--Alya, how can I…?”

“It’s a long story, just get to Adrien’s house is ten minutes. I’ll be there.” Alya hangs up the phone before Marinette can protest, and makes her way to Adrien’s house on her bike. She ignores the many frantic texts from Marinette until she’s safely in Adrien’s room. It takes a lot of convincing to get Marinette to agree, and Alya was almost afraid she wouldn’t come at all. But there’s a knock at the door and Alya practically zooms out of Adrien’s room before he could get up from his seat. 

Nathalie had let Marinette into the house, and Alya meets her at the staircase. Marinette has her book bag slung over one shoulder, and she rushes over to Alya, the two of them nearly hugging as they collide. 

“Alya!” Marinette squeals, her face already turning pink. “How in the world did you manage this? Adrien’s dad doesn’t really let any of his friends into the house.”

“I have my ways.” Alya purrs coyly, and points to Marinette’s book bag. “Is your homework in there?”

“Uh, no? I finished my homework in class. I have my sketchbook and art supplies in here.” Marinette shifts on her feet. “Don’t you think Adrien is going to find it weird that I don’t have my homework for a study session?” 

Alya waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, please. Don’t worry about that. Adrien won’t care that you didn’t bring any homework, he’ll be happy just knowing that another one of his friends is here.” Alya leads them up the stairs, whispering conspiratorially. “Now, this wouldn’t exactly be a study date with me around. So, you’ll be by Adrien’s side while I finish my paper. I have six more pages to do, so it’ll take a while. I’ll be sitting in a corner, and you can take this time to get closer to Adrien.” 

Marinette’s knees are shaking. Alya can already see the gears turning in her pretty little head. 

“I don’t know about this, Alya…”

“Be brave, Marinette! You can do this. And who knows? This ‘study date’ between you two could end up turning into a real one soon.” Marinette’s grip on Alya’s arm tightens as they walk into Adrien’s room. He perks up at the sight of them.

“Hey Marinette! I didn’t think I’d see you here.” 

“Y-Yeah…” Marinette digs her nails into Alya’s arm, and Alya gently pries her hand away. “I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Not at all! I’m glad you’re here.” 

The smile blooming across Marinette’s face nearly splits her face in two. Alya takes out her books and papers, leaving the snacks in her back for Adrien and Marinette to share as they take a seat at his piano. Alya makes herself comfortable at a nearby desk and immediately gets to work. Adrien plays softly, and eventually Alya forgets all about Adrien and Marinette. Periodically, she’ll glance up from her work to take a brief glance at them. Marinette always meets her eye and Alya gives her a thumbs up. 

She goes back to her work, and by the time an hour and a half goes by, Alya has finished the rest of her paper. She checks it three times for spelling errors and fact checks it twice. It’s perfect. Alya breathes a sigh and safely tucks it away in her folder. All she needs to do it type it out and print it, then she’s done. Finally. She turns around and finds Marinette and Adrien in deep conversation. Not wanting to interrupt, she sends Marinette a brief text and begins to gather her things. 

Marinette glances at her phone and stands up quickly.

“I-I should go.” she smiles shyly, and wrings her hands together. “We should do this again sometime, Adrien.”

Alya watches as Adrien’s face lights up and he nods. “Yeah, that sounds great!” She gives herself a mental pat on the back as Marinette nearly floats to the ceiling. She was a genius, honestly. This is her best work yet. 

They say goodbye to Adrien, and Alya lets him have the rest of her snacks. They walk outside and Alya mounts her bike as Marinette stands up on the pegs. Alya made sure to bring an extra helmet this time, and Marinette straps it on as Alya begins to pedal away. 

“So, how was it? Give me the details!” 

Marinette laughs, voice giddy. “Oh, Alya, you’re a miracle worker! We talked the whole time!” Alya listens carefully as Marinette regales her with the details of their conversation, making sure to take her time banking around corners. When she gets to Marinette’s house, Marinette climbs off her bike and undos the helmet, putting it inside the front basket. 

“Thank you again, Alya. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem! Now, make sure to set a date so you and Adrien can do this again. Don’t lose your momentum, girl!” 

“I won’t!”

Alya bikes her way home, thinking about Adrien’s piano playing. She hums the tune all the way home. 

When Alya gets her paper back from Ms. Bustier, she finds a big A+ at the top, complete with commentary on her paragraphs. It’s so beautiful, Alya could almost cry. She rushes to find Adrien when school lets out, and she nearly hugs him. “I got an A!” she tells him, brandishing her paper. 

Adrien smiles. “Hey, Alya that’s great!” 

“I know! And it’s all because of you. I never would’ve finished my paper if you hadn’t helped me out.” Adrien’s face turns a brilliant red and he runs a hand through his hair. The action is so simple but brings out the model in him. Alya is sure Marinette would’ve fainted at the sight. People are filing out of the school and soon the hallway becomes congested with students eager to enjoy the day. 

Alya tugs at Adrien’s book bag strap, giving him her best smile, and her voice is soft. “I owe you one, Adrien. Thanks again.” 

Alya is close enough that Adrien can see the glint of her eyes behind her glasses. “Don’t mention it, Alya. See you Monday.”


	4. Chapter 4

It was hard to go anywhere without seeing Adrien’s face. Saturday morning found Alya waking up at 11:30. She could’ve slept in until noon, but her siblings were making so much noise that it was hard to fall back asleep. She got ready for the day and changed into a pair of her best loungewear. Nothing felt better than laying around the house in sweats. After brewing herself a cup of strong coffee, Alya had brought in the mail and passed the bills over to her mother before settling on the couch.

She flipped through a magazine listlessly, taking a sip of her coffee. She looked briefly at an advertisement for a new lipstick, wondering if the color was worth the ridiculous price, before turning the page. Adrien Agreste was splashed across the page, decked in a handsome red suit. His hair was tousled, as if he had just wet it in the shower and didn’t bother to dry it properly. Red eyeshadow was swiped across his eyelids, and he had a tulip clenched between his teeth.

Alya blinked. 

Wow. He looked...good. Great even. There was a close up on his face, and Alya notices kiss marks along his face. His eyes were big, eyebrows furrowed. It made him look almost vulnerable. She flipped the page. More shots of Adrien in his suit were taken. The look was sophisticated and vulnerable, but not too risque. It was more teenage heartthrob than sexy. Alya was secretly glad about that. Alya squinted. It looked like he was endorsing some sort of high-end perfume. Something she’d never be able to afford. 

Alya takes a meditative sip of her coffee and snaps a picture. She quickly sends it to Marinette, and the familiar ding of her phone has Alya smirking into her cup. Marinette’s entire text is nothing but the words: OH MY GOD! with a hundred heart eyes emojis. 

It makes her laugh.

Alya gets a text later on from Marinette about coming over to Luka’s house. They were all going to go over some new designs for Kitty Section. Alya says a quick goodbye to her parents and leaves. By the time she gets to Luka’s nearly everyone is there. She climbs onto the boat house, and takes a seat right by Marinette, who is waving at her frantically. 

“So,” Alya huffs, brushing a few strands of hair away from her forehead. “What’s up?” There’s a white box beside Marinette, who digs through it before handing Alya a macaroon wrapped in white paper.

“A gift for setting me up with Adrien.” Marinette says and Alya squeals. There was nothing better than a macaroon from the Dupain-Cheng Bakery. She takes the offered treat and bites into it, savoring it. 

“This is amazing.” Alya’s words are muffled by the enormous bite of macaroons. “Marinette, this is _ heaven. _”

Marinette laughs. “I thought you’d say that, so I put another one aside for you.” Alya pretends to wipe a tear from her eye. Having Marinette as her best friend was the best decision she ever made. Luka then walks up to them, holding a tray of drinks. He gives one to Marinette, who thanks him shyly. Alya swallows and takes the glass from him. 

“Thanks, Luka.” she said, taking a sip through the straw. 

“No problem, Alya. When you’re done, we can go over the final designs for Kitty Section. Marinette’s designs are amazing.” Luka couldn’t sound more adoring if he tried, and as he walks off, Marinette is blushing down to the roots of her hair. Marinette's ... thing for Luka had been developing over the past few months. She’d deny having a crush on him, stating that her heart belonged to Adrien and Adrien only. But when Marinette blushed like that, Alya couldn’t help but think otherwise. Then again, it wasn’t hard for Marinette to go red in the face when someone complimented her. 

“You know, that’s really unfair.” Alya says suddenly, perking Marinette’s attention. 

“What do you mean?”

“Why is it that you have two princes after you when I’m stuck here alone?” That makes Marinette snort. 

“Uh, Adrien isn’t after me. Didn’t you hear him before? I’m just a good friend.” A gloomy look crosses her face, and Marinette puts her chin in her hands. 

Alya gives her a nudge. “Come on, Mari. Don’t look like that. Your persistence is going to pay off.” Marinette perks up at that, biting her bottom lip. She gets up to join Luka and Juleka, who are fiddling with the band equipment. Alya takes another sip of her drink, content for now to just sit back and let the cool spring breeze comb through her hair. She’s soaking in the sunlight, and Alya closes her eyes. 

Her sunlight is blocked momentarily, and she feels someone’s arm press against her. Alya opens her eyes and sees Adrien sitting next to her. He’s scrolling through his phone but somehow notices Alya looking at him. 

“Hey, I didn’t wanna disturb you. You looked really peaceful.” 

Alya gives a short laugh. “Thanks. I didn’t think you’d come.”

Adrien nods, looking up from his phone to address her. “My dad was a little reluctant at first when I mentioned going out, but he came around eventually.” He pauses. “I don’t know. He’s trying.”

Alya pulls up the photo she took of Adrien posing in the magazine. “Does he know about this?” she shook the phone in his face and Adrien laughed, looking slightly bashful. 

“God, I hope not. I look awful.”

“Really? I think it’s nice.”

Adrien pulls a face. “It’s a little much. They always want me to look, y’know, sexy. Or something. I hate it.” There’s a bitter edge in this voice at that last remark, and Alya gives him a concerned look. 

“Do you...have any control over that?” 

“Yeah, sort of. I don’t have to do photo shoots if something about them makes me uncomfortable. My team makes sure I’m not involved with anyone who would want me to dress in a way that’s distasteful or advertise something fake. That doesn’t stop people from trying, though.” he gives her a smirk. “You won’t believe how many women like that photo of me.” 

Alya shivers. She can’t picture some weird middle-aged woman ogling Adrien like that. It makes her shiver.

“I didn’t know you had those kinds of problems.” Alya says slowly, the full weight of his words hitting her. All Adrien does is shrug, giving her a hapless smirk. 

“It’s life, I guess. But I’m glad you like it.”

Alya thinks of Marinette. _ I’m not the only one. _

With a swipe of her thumb, Alya deletes the picture.

As it turns out, pictures of Adrien are practically everywhere. His face is plastered in every magazine spread, on billboards and ads. Alya wondered how Adrien felt, knowing that people were looking at him no matter where he went. She had never taken notice of it before, but now that she did, it was hard _ not _ to think about it. 

At the end of the day, when Alya is in bed in her warmest pajamas, she’s flipping through the same magazine from earlier. It’s almost midnight, and she’s struggling to keep her eyes open. She considers sending Marinette a goodnight text, as was their ritual. She’s about to close the magazine when she stumbles across Adrien’s photo again. She ends up staring at it for a moment or two before closing it firmly and tossing it aside. No. Absolutely not. She would _ not _ oogle Adrien Agreste like nearly every other girl in Paris. Alya shoots a text to Marinette and turns off her bedside lamp.

But deep inside, even though she’ll never say it, Alya can’t help but think that Adrien was really rather cute.

* * *

  
With Monday comes school, and Alya wakes up that morning with a horrible feeling in her stomach. This feeling is directly correlated to her newfound revelation that Adrien’s face graced nearly half the magazines in Paris. The feeling is the realization that Adrien Agreste, long time classmate and friend, was _ cute _. Incredibly so. Granted, Alya always knew he was attractive. She wasn’t blind, after all. Marinette’s passion-fueled ramblings of his features only started making real sense now. 

That didn’t mean Alya was going to start falling for him. That would be absurd. She just. noticed he was attractive, that’s all. It shouldn’t come as this much of a shock to her. But it was like she woke up Monday morning and bam! epiphany activated. Now she was doing everything she can not to stare at him for too long during class and every moment after. She couldn’t risk Marinette finding out, and _ that _ made an even more unpleasant feeling drop into her stomach as well. 

So she figured the best thing to do was ignore it. She’d adjust and land back on her feet in no time. No big deal….

Except it was a big deal, in a weird way. It was like she couldn’t stop noticing him. From the way he twirled his pencil when he was concentrating on work to when he would run a hand through his hair when he was stressed. Goodness, is this what Marinette had to deal with _ every day? _ For _ years? _ Alya didn’t know how the girl survived this long. School wasn’t even halfway over and Alya was growing testy. Lunch provides a brief reprieve of her racing thoughts, and she joins Marinette, Rose and Juleka outside. Eating lunch in the sun was always better than eating it indoors. 

“If we take another test I’ll scream.” Marinette says, laying her head on the wooden table. “This has to be, what? The fourth test this week? I’m going to die.” 

“Ms. Bustier has to know I’m not smart enough to pass these tests.” Alya grumbles, pushing around her fruit salad with a fork. “She’s making a mockery of me.” That makes Juleka laugh, and she brushed her bangs out of her face. 

“I like tests,” Rose says, sweet and innocent as always. 

“Yeah,” Juleka casts her a fond look. “That’s because you’re smart.”

“Oh no,” Rose blushes. “I like it for the thrill.”

Alya raises an eyebrow at that. “What thrill?”

“The thrill of winning!” Rose’s eyes are flashing something dangerous, and her voice drops about two octaves in excitement. “The rush of finishing a test before anyone else and the thrill in knowing that you’ve got the highest score in the class!” Alya’s eyes widen. She had only seen Rose this amped when they were singing live for Kitty Section. Who knew she had a competitive streak? 

Marinette couldn’t look more shocked if she tried, but Juleka looks as if she had somehow fallen deeper in love with Rose. Noticing their strange looks, Rose draws into herself with a shy smile and squeaks out a small, “sorry.” Alya starts to eat her fruit salad, chomping down on a hunk of pineapple. She almost chokes as Marinette grabs onto her arm, grinning excitedly. 

“Adrien’s coming over!” she whispers. “Do you think I should schedule another study session?”

Alya wrinkles her nose. “Ugh, no. By the time this week is over you’ll never want to look at another piece of homework again.” Alya bites her bottom lip in thought. “Oh! Bring him to the bakery!” 

“The bakery?” Marinette echoes. “To do what?”

“To bake, of course! You can show him how to make bread...or scones...or well, anything! It would be a good excuse to spend some time with him, and to show off your skills.” 

“Oh, that’s a great idea! But..would he even agree to that? That sounds so lame.” Marinette’s tone is doubtful and she glances to the floor. 

“Are you kidding? Adrien loves your baking. And if you don’t feel comfortable with just him alone, you can bring some people from class.” 

Marinette perks up at that. “Do you think that would work?” she asks. “I’m just afraid of doing something stupid in front of him.”

“You can invite us.” Juleka pipes up, gathering their attention. She clears her throat and looks down at the table. “Er, that is--if you want. Maybe it’ll take some of the pressure off?”

Marinette nods enthusiastically. “Yes, yes, that’s good.” she agrees quickly. 

Rose gives Marinette an uncharacteristically sly smile. “Now all you have to do is ask him.” 

Marinette’s fingernails create grooves in Alya’s arm, and Alya gives her a sympathetic look. 

“Mari, sweetie. You’re cutting off my circulation.” Marinette gives a silent, “Oh!” and takes her hands away. 

Adrien slides next to them, accompanied by Chloe and Sabrina. Chloe is less than thrilled at the prospect of sitting next to them, and prefers to stand instead. Sabrina, who was about to sit down, straightens to attention and quickly goes to stand beside her. Uh-Oh. Alya meets Marinette’s eye, and she can see the girl begin to falter. Marinette never could talk to Adrien in front of Chloe. The blonde girl was always searching for new ways to humiliate her, and Marinette’s mood would be sour for the entire day. 

Alya cocks her head in Adrien’s direction. _ Go on. _ Marinette blushes and shakes her head. _ No, no way. _

Alya raises her eyebrows, insistent. _ Yes. Go! Do it! _

Marinette shakes her head again. Alya jostles her with her elbow. 

“Ah--Uh, Adrien!” Marinette says, and the blonde boy turns to her. Marinette appears almost queasy, but she plunges on anyway. “W-We were thinking of baking at my place! Next Week! That is...i-if you want to go…?”

“Sure!” Adrien says eagerly. “That sounds like fun. What’re you guys…”

“Oh, please!” Chloe cuts in, using a manicured fingernail to touch at her eyelashes. “Who wants to spend all day in some sweaty old bakery?” she pretends to gag, and Marinette visibly wilts.

“Cupcakes.” Alya growls in Chloe’s direction, throwing daggers at her. Chloe pointedly ignores her heated glare. “We’re making cupcakes. And you should definitely come by.” murmers of agreement from Juleka and Rose prompt Adrien to agree. Chloe curls her lip at them and stalks off, with Sabrina right at her heels.

_ Why did she even bother coming over if she was just going to leave? _ Alya thinks in annoyance, and she meets Adrien’s gaze. He gives her a soft smile, and Alya tries her best to return it. The photos didn’t do him justice, his eyes were positively _ green _. 

Oh yeah, Alya thinks. She definitely has a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kind comments! I hope you enjoy the fourth chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

The plans for Marinette’s baking plans were put to fruition over several texts and lunchtime discussions. She had gotten her parents permission to use the bakery, and made sure they had all the ingredients necessary. It was agreed that Friday worked best for everybody, and Alya was starting to get excited. Sure, she wasn’t really good at cooking, but she’d try her best. For Marinette.

Her constant encouragement for Marinette to go through with this baking thing was because she felt partially guilty for still thinking about Adrien. Alya couldn’t help herself. Staring at him was one thing, but her thoughts tended to wander to him even when she was busy with other matters. Like superhero business, for instance. A recent attack downtown had prompted Ladybug to corner Alya on her way to the supermarket. Alya had stuffed the shopping list in her back pocket. The groceries would have to wait. After transforming, she followed Ladybug downtown to a nearby elementary school. The civilians and students had all been evacuated from the area. From there, it was pretty easy taking down the akuma ( a purple clad woman named Miss. Discipline) and restoring what damage had been done to the school. Luckily, no one had been injured too badly, all except for Rena Rogue.

Creating her mirage to trap the akuma had been easy, but a series of backflips to avoid Miss. Discipline’s lazors had left her with a strange twinge in her wrist. Once order had been restored and the children were allowed to go back inside the school, Rena stood on the sidelines, carefully examining her right hand. That’s just what she gets for showing off. And she _ still _ had to go grocery shopping. 

“Everything okay?” Chat Noir purrs and Rena Rouge gives him a smile. 

“It’s nothing, just a little sprain.” Rena says dismissively. 

“I saw you doing those backflips a little while ago,” Chat Noir grinned. “Trying to impress me, huh?”

Rena gave a playful scoff. “I think my costume gives you a good enough impression, kitty.” 

Chat Noir doesn’t miss a beat. “Foxy and flirty? That can be a dangerous combination, y’know.”

“What’s life without a little danger?” 

_ “Ahem.” _

Ladybug is looking at them both, arms folded. Her expression is deadpan, but there’s a slight glint of amusement in her eyes. “If you two are done flirting, I need to get Trixx back before my earrings go off.” 

Rena Rouge blushes, embarrassed at being caught looking so unprofessional. “Right, sorry.” 

“Jealous, my lady?” Chat Noir quips, he can’t hide the hope in his voice even if he wanted to. If anything, Ladybug’s expression gets even flatter. 

“Hardly. Come on, Rena.” 

When they’re safely out of earshot, Rena Rouge meets Ladybug’s gaze. “I’m really sorry, Ladybug.” she says. “I didn’t mean to be so...improper. I know you’re counting on me.” At this, Ladybug’s gaze softens. 

“Don’t worry about that,” she laughs. “Chat Noir flirts with everyone if he can help it. You’re doing just fine.” 

When Alya leaves Ladybug, she makes it halfway back home before she remembers the groceries, and sprints to the store.

Friday comes sooner than expected, and Alya helps with the last minute preparations. She ties her hair in a bun and makes sure there’s enough aprons for everyone, while Marinette freaks out behind her. 

“Alya, this isn’t going to work. This is going to be a disaster! I’ll do something stupid and ruin the whole thing.”

“Marinette--”

“I’ll accidentally spill batter on Adrien or slip and fall on the floor and everyone will laugh at me!”

“Marinette…”

“Or worse! I’ll undercook the cupcakes and Adrien will get sick and then he’ll hate me _ forever _ and--”

_ “Marinette!” _Alya crosses the kitchen floor, grabs her best friend by the shoulders and gives her a shake. “Relax! This is your home! You’re in your element, nothing is going to go wrong.”

“But…”

“Hush! Your baking skills are incredible, Adrien is going to love your food. He’ll have a great time, and everything is going to be fine.” Alya assures her. “Trust me, Marinette. Have some confidence! I’ll be here in case anything goes wrong.” Marinette’s shoulders relax and she takes a deep breath.

“Okay. You’re right. Everything will be fine.” 

Alya nods, and her attention is averted when a knock at the door sounds. She turns back to Marinette, grinning excitedly. “Get ready!”

It seemed like nearly everyone in class came, even Chloe and Sabrina, though Chloe looked as though she were getting her teeth pulled the entire time. Marinette had split them all up into two groups and instructed them on what to do. She walked around the kitchen, making sure the ingredients were all stirred together and that everyone had enough cupcake tins. Alya had to admit, when Marinette finally calmed down, she was a pretty good teacher. She was definitely in her zone. 

Marinette’s parents had gone upstairs to give them all some space, they only insisted that the kitchen was clean once everyone was finished. Alya was in a group with Juleka, Rose, Mylene, Alix, Nathanael and Chloe. Marinette’s team consisted of Adrien, Kim, Max, Sabrina and Ivan. It had been Alya’s idea to let Chloe join her group, even if it killed her a little inside. She knew Chloe would do or say something rude to ruin Marinette’s day. She could bear with Chloe for the next hour or so. 

They had all taken turns designing what their cupcakes would look like and what sort of toppings they wanted. Marinette’s mom and dad owned an assortment of sprinkles, chocolate chips, marshmallows and just about anything in between. They had decided that they would each design two cupcakes to their own liking, and have a taste test once they were done cooking. Alya had been in charge of stirring the batter, and she decided to hand mix it instead of using an electric whisk. 

The last time she used an electric whisk things went....terribly, for lack of a better word. Doing it by hand just seemed easier. She sneaks a peek over at the other team and nearly drops the bowl. Adrien is stirring the batter, and Marinette has a hand on his wrist to show him the proper way to stir. Alya is torn between happiness and something she can’t quite put her finger on. 

“Alya, you’re stirring too hard.” pipes up Juleka, and Alya slows her speed. The last thing she wants is to get her shirt ruined. The oven dings, causing Marinette to jump apart from Adrien, and she clears her throat. 

“A-Alright! Place your batter in the cupcake tins!” Alya lets Mylene pour the cupcake batter, and they all pick out their toppings and frosting while the cupcakes bake. Marinette turns on the television, and they all settle into the living room, talking quietly amongst themselves. Rose takes picture after picture, making sure to send them to everyone. Alya sits next to Marinette on the couch. 

“Looks like everything’s going well.” she said, and Marinette nods excitedly. 

“Yeah! I really think everyone’s having a good time.” Marinette gave her an excited look and her voice dropped to a whisper. “Did you see me with Adrien?” 

“Of course! I could feel the sparks all the way from across the kitchen.” Marinette puts her face in her hands, and Alya has the feeling she’s trying to keep herself from squealing. She was so cute sometimes. 

The cupcakes finish baking around 25 minutes later, and the kitchen grows into a mess as everyone starts to decorate. Marinette had decided that using piping bags for the frosting sounded much more fun, and pulled out a variety of piping tips for everyone to choose from. Marinette was an expert, so her frosting came out as a perfect rose. Alya had a hard time trying to make her tulips look just right, and some of them came out a little lopsided, but it looked good nonetheless. 

The taste testing followed soon after. They all swapped with each person in their group, and Alya ended up with a cupcake that Chloe made. Her design was a simple white frosting swirl. She had a disgruntled look on her face when Alya gave her the cupcake she made. 

“Are these tulips?” Chloe says.

“Yeah, do you like them?” 

Chloe rolls her eyes and inspects it, as if it might be poisonous and Alya resists the urge to roll her own eyes. She takes a bite of Chloe’s cupcake, and it has a distinct lemon flavor. For some reason, that seems fitting. But it’s _ good _, like, really good. Alya wasn’t one for lemon, but she could make an exception. 

Chloe is looking at her with narrowed eyes, Alya’s cupcake still held gingerly in her hand. 

“I’ve seen you staring at Adrien.” Chloe says suddenly, and Alya starts to choke. She coughs, trying her hardest not to inhale anymore crumbs. There’s still a wad of cupcake in her mouth, and it takes her a moment to chew and swallow before she’s giving Chloe a teary-eyed look. 

“What are you talking about?” Alya demands, lowering her voice to a hoarse whisper, making sure no one is listening. Thankfully, everyone is so busy eating and talking that no one is paying attention.

“Oh please,” Chloe begins to peel off Alya’s cupcake wrapper, scratching at the pastry with a pink manicured fingernail. “I’ve seen plenty of girls oogle Adrien over the long years that I’ve been his friend. You have that same look in your eye.”

“I don’t have any look in my eyes.” Alya says, and she eats the rest of the lemon cupcake to distract herself. She can’t believe that she’s having this conversation with _ Chloe Bourgeois _ of all people. 

“Whatever. At least you’re trying to hide it, Marinette is so obvious it’s gag worthy.” 

“It’s sweet.” Alya defends lamely, and Chloe takes a bite of Alya’s cupcake. She chews for a moment, raising her eyebrows in slight surprise. 

“Listen, I don’t care either way, I just thought I’d let you know.” And with that, Chloe walks off, her heels clicking against the kitchen floor, licking icing off her thumb. Alya heaves a sigh, rubbing a hand over her face. She can’t believe this, she was trying to be so careful! Oh goodness, if Chloe were to tell Marinette…

Guilt twists painfully inside her stomach, and Alya bites her bottom lip in worry. Maybe she should just leave before things get any worse--

“Alya?” 

Speak of the devil.

Alya turns around to see Adrien looking down at her worriedly. Gosh, when did he get so tall? 

“Uh, yeah?”

“Are you okay? You look a little upset. Did Chloe say something to you?” 

Alya shakes her head. “No, she was fine. Um, are you having fun?” she grapples for something to say. 

“Yeah, this whole thing turned out great! Do you wanna switch cupcakes, that is, if you have an extra one?” 

“Oh, okay. Hold on.” Alya retrieves her second cupcake from the tray and they switch. Adrien’s smells like vanilla, and when she takes a bite, there’s a warm burst of cinnamon. It’s soft and light and sweet. 

_ A lot like him _ , Alya’s brain supplies, and she mentally begins to trash her feelings with a baseball bat. _ Shut up! Shut up! _

“This is good!” Alya compliments, and Adrien nods. 

“Your’s is really good, too. Is this buttercream icing?” Alya nods, and Adrien takes another bite. “I like the tulips.” 

They stand in silence for a few more minutes, and Alya searches the room for Marinette. She finds her talking to Luka on the couch. Chloe is nowhere in sight, thank goodness. When Alya focuses back on Adrien, she finds him giving her a funny look, and he gives a short laugh. 

“What is it?” 

“It’s just…” Adrien swallows. “You’ve got icing on your face.”

“Really? Where?” Alya pats her face, careful of the crumbs still on her fingers. She should’ve taken a napkin before she started shot-gunning cupcakes, and her face feels weirdly hot. Then, Adrien wipes his hands on his shirt (she’s never seen him do that. He was always so careful with his clothes). 

“Hold on, it’s right here.” he leans in close, and time seems to slow down until it halts altogether as Adrien takes his thumb and wipes at the corner of her mouth. It’s nothing, it’s just a simple gesture. Adrien would’ve done it with any of his other friends. But that train of thought goes completely off the tracks, falls off a cliff and explodes into a fiery mess as Adrien licks his thumb.

The same thumb he used to wipe the icing off her face. 

But he does it so casually that Alya _ knows _ he wasn’t even thinking of anything inappropriate. Adrien didn’t have an inappropriate bone in his body. After a few seconds, Adrien must’ve noticed how tense Alya was, and the strange expression on her face, because his eyes get bigger and he presses his mouth into a thin line.

“Oh, wow. What that weird?” he asks nervously. “I swear I wasn’t trying to be weird.”

“N-No, it’s okay…”

“It totally isn’t. You must think I’m some, like, weirdo pervert or something. I make everything weird.” he replies dejectedly.

_ That _ makes Alya laugh, it’s so absurd and ridiculous that Alya can’t help herself. Immediately, the awkward tension between them melts away. 

“I don’t think you’re a weirdo pervert, Adrien.” Alya responds, once she gets her breath back. “You’re fine, really.” 

“Okay.”

Alya gives him a reassuring smile, and they fall back into their usual routine. He knocks his hip against hers, and she returns the gesture before they head back into the living room.

It’s the beginning of the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh, things are heating up! The next chapter will give a deeper glimpse into Alya's daily life, as well as a little insight on how Adrien sees her as a friend. I hope you all enjoy!


	6. Chapter 6

Alya wakes up to someone shaking her. 

At first, she doesn’t comprehend anything, and in the thick fog of sleep, all she wants to do is go back to sleep. She turns over, burrowing deeper under the covers. The shaking persists and Alya groans. Why couldn’t she just be left alone? Wearily, Alya unrolls herself from her blanket cocoon and sits up. She blinks, trying to focus, and finds her little sister, Etta, staring at her. 

“What is it, Etta?” Alya yawns, rubbing her eyes. 

“We’re late for school, Alya!” Etta says, and Alya groans, running a hand through her hair. 

“Etta, it’s not time for school. It’s only…” Alya trails off as she spots her beside clock. 8:30 A.M. 

Eight-thirty?! Not only was Etta and Ella late for school, but so was she! 

“Ssh…Shoot!” Alya hisses, trying her hardest not to curse. She jumps out of bed, throwing her covers off her bed in the process. Etta was still clad in her pajamas and Alya gives another groan. 

“Okay, did you brush your teeth yet?” Etta shakes her head no. “Alright, go to the bathroom and wash up. I’ll get your school clothes.” Alya puts on her slippers and follows Etta out into the hallway. “Is Ella awake?” 

“No!” Etta calls, already closing the door to the bathroom. Alya runs upstairs and bursts into her younger sister’s room. Ella is still asleep under the covers, and Alya flicks on the bedroom light. 

“Come on, Ella!” Alya masks her irritation with a false cheerfulness that she hopes is convincing. Ella stirs but doesn’t make a move, and Alya jostles her, trying not to be rough.

“Ugh...what?” Ella’s small voice sounds and Alya rips the covers off of her. 

“Time for school! Hurry up and grab your toothbrush. Etta is already in the bathroom.” Alya shoves open the closet door and rifles through it until she finds their uniforms. Damn, they were wrinkled. That meant she had to iron them, which would only waste more time! She takes the uniforms off their hangers, gently pushing Ella out of the room and making sure she gets down the stairs okay. 

She finds the iron in her parent’s room, and hurriedly begins to iron their clothes. Her mom and dad both told her that they would be working a crazy schedule for the next two weeks, meaning that Alya would often have to wake up the twins and make sure they get to school on time. This was the first time she had to do it, and she was already failing. In between ironing, Alya instructs the twins to share the toothpaste and stop arguing. She checks her phone. 8:40 A.M. 

Once the clothes are finished, Alya makes sure they both brushed their teeth and washed their faces before they put their uniforms on. Alya then grabs a brush and begins to do their hair. She doesn’t have time for anything fancy, so she does her best with two standard ponytails. This doesn’t go over well. 

“No!” Etta pouts, crossing her arms. “I don’t want ponytails! I want braids!” 

“What?” Alya says. “Etta, we really don’t have time for--”

“I want braids too!” pipes up Ella. “And ribbons!”

“Oh, ribbons! I want ribbons!” 

“Guys…” Alya doesn’t get to protest, because they both begin to whine. She knew that if they both started throwing temper tantrums, they’d never get to school. Alya huffs and shoves Etta back onto her parents bed. She has to run back upstairs to grab the ribbons and quickly starts to braid. It doesn’t take long, Alya had done hair before, and they all head downstairs. Alya then halts in the living room. 

The book bags!

She slumps onto the floor, cursing her life and everything in it. She can’t believe she forgot the book bags! Okay, no time for that. She has to get moving. Alya sprints back upstairs and grabs the twins bookbags before she grabs her own. She flies down the steps, slips on her shoes and wrenches the front door open, pushing out Ella and Etta before locking the door behind her. 

“Okay. Where’s the bus?” Alya says. 

Ella gives her a confused look. “The bus that picks us up already left.”

_ “What?” _

“It leaves at 8 o’clock.” Etta supplies and Alya wants to scream. Why is the world doing this to her?! She’s always tried to be a good girl! Alya closes her eyes and runs a hand through her hair again. Okay, think. Think. What to do…? She looks to the driveway. Both of the cars are gone. She’ll just have to walk them to school.

The twins don’t want to walk, and they make a fuss nearly all the way to the elementary school. Alya wants to plug her earphones in and blast some music to drown them out, but she can’t afford to do that. Knowing them, there’s no music loud enough to drown out the sound of whining twins. They make it to the elementary school at 9, and Alya makes sure the twins make it to their classes with both their bookbags. The poor things didn’t even get to eat breakfast, but the teacher said she’d make sure they got something to eat. The teacher was looking at her strangely, but Alya ignored it. She had been rushing, of course she’d look a little frazzled. Now she just had to get to school. 

Alya adjusts her book bag and runs off to school, periodically checking her phone. She makes it to Collège Françoise Dupont by 9:30, and is in the hallway before two horrifying things occur to her. 

_ She didn’t brush her teeth. _

_ She’s still in her nightgown. _

Alya nearly breaks down right there and then. No wonder everyone was looking at funny! And how could she forget to brush her _ teeth _ of all things?! She had been so worried and busy trying to make sure the twins got to school on time that she had completely forgotten about herself. This was a whole new low for her. Things couldn’t get any worse than this. She wants to crawl into a hole and never come out. 

Alya opens her locker, pointedly ignoring all of the snickers and weird stares that she gets from passing students. Luckily for her, she has a pencil case tucked away in the back of her locker containing an extra toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste, along with some tissues and pads. It was an emergency case she made for herself last year, just in case anything went wrong. This is the first time she’d had to use it. 

Alya can do nothing about her clothes. The only thing she has is an extra pair of jeans. She grabs her emergency case and the jeans before she sprints to the bathroom. She changes in the stall, tucking her nightgown into her pants and putting her socks and shoes back on. She leaves, and turns the faucet on to brush her teeth. Once her teeth are clean, she puts her toothbrush and toothpaste away before placing the case in the front part of her book bag. She tries to fix her windswept hair and puts her glasses on. After a few more minutes of primping to make up for the fact that she’s wearing a pair of jeans over her _ freaking nightgown _, Alya heads off to class. 

Alya walks into class with as much confidence as she could muster, there’s even a small swish to her hips. If she’s going to be wearing her nightgown all day, she’s going to rock it. Besides, it’s baby blue with small lace cuffs and flowers. It was cute. Everyone is gaping at her as Alya makes her way to her seat, there’s even a few snickers here and there. The only people who aren’t laughing at her are Marinette and Adrien. Apparently, Ms. Bustier isn’t pleased with Alya being late, or her disturbing the class. 

“If you are going to be late for school, Ms. Cesaire, the least you could do is dress for the occasion. Would you like to go to the office for a change of clothes?” Oh, this wasn’t good. Normally, Ms. Bustier was incredibly pleasant. This was the wrong time to get on her bad side. 

“Uh, no. I’m fine.” Alya slides next to Marinette. 

“Do you at least have your homework?” 

Alya unzips her book bag, and her heart sinks to the pit of her stomach as a horrible cold washes over her. 

Her homework. 

She left it on her desk in her room. The only things inside her book bag were a couple of spare binders and a library book. How, oh how could this happen to her?

“Ms. Cesaire?” Ms. Bustier snaps Alya out of her spiraling thoughts with a hint of impatience in her voice. “Your homework?”

“I uh...I don’t have it.”

Ms. Bustier’s expression couldn’t get any flatter, and she gives a single shake of her head before directing the class back to the lesson. Alya is mortified, and she feels her stomach twist uncomfortably. 

“What happened, Alya?” Marinette whispers sympathetically to her, and Alya sinks even father down into her seat. 

“My life is ruined.” she responds, and thunks her head onto the table.

Alya eats lunch cloistered away from all human beings. She can’t stand anymore odd looks. Luckily, nobody says anything else about her nightgown, and it actually looks pretty nice on her. She tried her best not to bunch it up as she shoved the rest of her gown into her pants, and the whole thing was uncomfortable. She can’t afford to go back home and change, and there was no way she was going to the office for a change of clothes. As humiliating as this was, Alya knew she could bear it. 

Once school is finally over, Alya waves goodbye to Marinette and practically rushes home. She had gotten a text from her mom saying that she would be home tonight, which meant that Alya didn’t have to bother with making dinner for the twins. Alya had cooked dinner before, but in her haste today, she had forgotten to take anything out of the freezer. Alya was relieved. All she had to do was go home, change her clothes and crawl into bed. Then she could forget all about this day. 

As it turns out, when Alya gets home, Etta and Ella are already there. They’re sitting in the living room watching cartoons. Alya greets them as she heads upstairs and puts her book bag down.

“Alya.” her mother says, and the tone of voice makes her shiver. Alya turns. Her mother, Marlena, is standing in the hallway, looking exhausted and irritated. She had yet to take off her chef uniform, and had her arms crossed in front of her. If she was wielding a pair of kitchen knives, Alya would think that her mother would look a lot like Gordon Ramsey at the moment. It only makes her nervous. 

“Hello.” Alya greets.

“I got a call from the elementary school today.” her mother starts. “They wanted to know why Etta and Ella weren’t in school.” 

“But they were, I got them to school.” 

“You got them to school an hour _late_, Alya. I didn’t get the message until I got off work, and when I came home and found the house empty, I panicked. Luckily, the administrator called me as I was driving and told me that Etta and Ella were safely in school.” her tone then turns snappish. “Alya, how on earth could you get them to school an hour late? I told you that your father and I would be busy this week, we were counting on you to be responsible and watch over them!” 

“Mom, please. Etta and Ella got to school. Everything’s fine! What’s the big deal?” 

“The big deal is that you’ve been baby-sitting long enough not to make mistakes like this. We can’t afford a babysitter, Alya, and I shouldn’t have to come home to deal with this when you’re old enough to know better.” Alya inwardly sighed. Her mother was always patient, with four girls she had to be, but work was stretching her thin lately and her patience had been brittle for weeks now. 

Alya knows that her mother is right, but she really can’t deal with this right now. Her nightgown is itchy and her legs are tired from all the running and walking she had to do today. 

“I’m sorry, mom. It won’t happen again.” 

“I should hope not. We...is that your nightgown?” Alya pinches the bridge of her nose, she can’t bear to explain this to her own mother. “Why are you wearing your nightgown over a pair of jeans?”

“It’s a long story, but--”

Marlena’s phone buzzes in her pocket and she holds up a hand, effectively cutting Alya off. Marlena pulls out her phone and squints, her frown deepening as she sighs and puts her phone back in her pocket. 

“I have to go. We’re understaffed and I need to get to the restaurant. Your father won’t be home until late, so it’s up to you to make dinner. Do you think you can handle that?” 

“Yes.” Alya responds meekly. Marlena goes to grab her purse and brushes past Alya before heading downstairs. Once she hears her mother peel out of the driveway, Alya goes into her room and changes into a pair of sweats. Exhausted, and stung by her mother’s sharp words, Alya flops into bed. Oh sure, she knew her mother worked hard, and she knew she should’ve done a better job with her sisters; but goodness! Alya just wanted a break! This was her biggest blunder yet. 

Alya was tired of looking after her siblings. They were fine most of the time, but they could be a handful. All she wanted to do was complete her homework and go to bed. She was certain that her older sister, Nora, wouldn’t wake up late. She also knew Nora would never go to school in her pajamas. That was going to haunt her for a while. Alya rolls over and hugs one of her pillows. 

Stupid. She was so stupid. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did anyone get that parks and rec quote from the first chapter or is that just me. 
> 
> also i'm sorry this is so late. another chapter will be on its way.
> 
> it's one of those days that goes wrong from the very start, so I wrote this to cope. Things will get better, both for me and for Alya. Please tell me what you think.


	7. Chapter 7

For the next two weeks, Alya makes sure the twins go to school on time. She does the laundry and ironing. She plans out meals and cooks dinner, and makes sure the house is sparkling clean before going to bed. Who knew two little girls could generate such a mess? She barely sees her mom and dad, but this was common. Sometimes her parents just got super busy, and since Nora was away, it was up to Alya to make sure everything was running smoothly. It was hard work, but she had no other option. 

The next two weeks are hectic, but Alya just digs her heels in and bears it. She gets phone calls periodically from her dad, and Alya assures him that everything is fine before passing it to the twins. Her mother calls and apologizes for her outburst, and Alya waves it away. Her mother worked herself to the bone, she didn’t need to apologize for anything. Eventually, a routine sets in, and when the day is done, Alya crawls into bed and is out like a light. Then it starts again the next day, 

The only upside it that everyone seems to have forgotten her nightgown incident at school. Alya knows that in a few years time, she’ll laugh about this. But the only thing she can do now is cringe and repress that awful day deep in the void of her subconscious. Marinette had tried to console her. “I’ve done worse than that, Alya. Remember when I left that embarrassing voicemail on Adrien’s phone?” 

“Yeah, but that worked out in the end. No one had to hear it.” Alya’s eyebrows furrow as her frown deepens. “Everyone had to see me walk into class in my nightgown.” 

“This will pass soon. You’ll see.” 

In the end, Marinette had been right, but Alya’s spiral about it lasted for another day or two before the embarrassment finally seemed to ebb away. After getting Etta and Ella dropped off at school, Alya makes it to school with minutes to spare and slides into her seat, completely exhausted. This is the last day that she’ll have to take the twins to school, since her mother’s schedule cleared up and her father comes home early. Alya is completely exhausted, and she can barely keep her eyes open during school. 

Thankfully, school passes by quickly, and Alya prepares herself for the walk to the elementary school to pick up her sisters. She’s made the walk before, but there’s a sluggish movements in her steps as she walks. Alya stifles a yawn and pushes forward, already thinking about the mountain of homework she’ll have to do once she gets home. 

  


It takes over ten minutes to get home because the twins want ice-cream, so Alya treats them. At one point, Ella drops her ice cream, prompting Alya to go back and buy another lest Ella lose her temper. She gets them a small, something to placate them. She wouldn’t want them to spoil their dinner. 

Once they get home, Alya kicks off her shoes and makes sure the twins change out of their uniforms. Then, she helps them with their homework and parks them in front of the television while she starts her own homework. Alya has been killing it with the twins, but she’s been falling behind in her schoolwork, and the one thing she can’t afford is an F. So she holes herself up in her room and gets to work.

Two hours go by painstakingly slow, but Alya is finished all of her homework plus the work she had fallen behind in. She packs her homework away in her bookbag and heads downstairs. The twins are still sitting in front of the television, engrossed in some cartoons. Alya is supposed to make dinner, and tonight it’s lasagna. Alya had picked up a few tricks from her mother, and once the lasagna is prepared and the oven beeps, Alya puts the lasagna in the oven and heads back to her room. 

She sets a timer on her phone and falls into bed. She gets a brief text from her mother saying she’ll be home soon. Alya yawns. A nap wouldn’t be so bad right now, would it? She did set a timer after all, it would wake her up. Alya takes off her glasses and sets them on the desk next to her. She’ll just take a power nap, just for a few minutes...she’ll wake up soon…

_ “Alya!” _

Alya jolts awake, and two things register to her mind. 

One is that Ella and Etta are both standing in her room, worried expressions on each of their faces. 

Two, the house smells like smoke. 

Crap!

Alya puts her glasses on and pushes past the twins, who are right on her heels as she flies down the stairs, sliding in her socks as she runs to the kitchen. Her mother comes in just as Alya is racing to the kitchen. 

“Alya?!” her mother says. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” Alya cries, she can’t afford to make up a lie, and she doesn’t want to. Alya opens the oven and back away as plumes of smoke waft into the air. She grabs the pan of lasagna without thinking and nearly drops it. She manages to toss it onto the counter and close the oven shut before turning it off. Alya coughs into her hand and spots a magazine by the microwave, and uses it to fan the air, hoping to dispel the smoke. Once the smoke clears, she gets a clear view of the dinner she was supposed to make. It’s a steaming burnt mess, and to make it worse, she used one of her mother’s more expensive pans. 

The lasagna is ruined.

Alya heaves a sigh, walking out of the kitchen. She can’t do anything about it now. Her mother has opened up most of the windows and told Ella and Etta to go upstairs until it’s safe to come back down. Her mother goes into the kitchen, takes one look at the lasagna and comes back out, her arms crossed. 

Here it comes. 

“I cannot believe you, Alya. What were you doing that was so important that you completely forgot about the food in the oven?” Her mother waits for an answer, and Alya wrings her hands together. 

“I sort of, fell asleep, It was an accident, I swear! I didn’t hear my alarm.”

“That’s not an excuse, Alya! How could you possibly fall asleep while cooking dinner? You could’ve burnt down the whole house! And you ruined one of my best pans!” Alya inwardly sighed, once her mother got worked up on a rant she could go on for minutes. It was best just to nod and agree with whatever she was saying. Alya stands there through the entire How Irresponsible Can You Be? and the I Shouldn’t Have To Come Home To This spiel. The You’re Old Enough To Know Better tirade gets really heated. It ends with her mother making a diss about her lack of attention and suggests that Nora take over all babysitting duties for now. 

Alya leaves while her mother scrapes out the congealed lasagna, it makes an audible thunk into the trash can. She heads up the stairs to her room and nearly runs into Ella and Etta in the hallway. 

“Is everything okay?” Ella asked.

“Not really. But we’re having take out for tonight instead of lasagna.” Alya says, and the obvious disappointment on their faces makes her heart sink. The twins loved lasagna. “I’m sorry. I ruined it.” 

“It’s okay.” Etta replies, she was never one to hold a grudge. “Pizza is good, too.” 

“Yeah.” Ella nods in agreement. “I like pizza. We can all eat in front of the t.v. and watch movies!” 

Their obvious attempts to cheer her up makes Alya’s eyes misty. She ruffles their hair with both hands and they giggle before they both dash downstairs. Alya walks back into her room and face plants into her bed. 

Her throat is closing up, and Alya takes a deep breath. 

  


Marlena Cesaire’s anger lasts about two days, which is no surprise to Alya. Her family could be quick tempered when the time called for it, and the fire would burn for a while before it finally simmered out. Alya doesn’t particularly mind the silent treatment. She needs her space, after all. Her father is much more patient. He mellows out Marlena and encourages Alya. 

“I know you’re a good older sister, Alya. Your mother will forget this soon.” 

“I know, dad.” Alya forces a smile that manages to convince him, and he ruffled her hair before planting a kiss on her forehead. Perhaps her father was right, but she can’t get her mother’s words out of her head, and they roll around in her brain until it nearly drives Alya crazy. To save her sanity, she heads out early one sunny day and wanders into the park. She sits on a nearby bench and slumps into it.

It was such a beautiful day, but Alya feels completely drained. Was she really a terrible babysitter? Maybe her mother was right, maybe Nora would do a better job at this than her. She remembers the smoking oven and cringes. Her mother may have been a little harsh, but she was right, in a way. If she hadn’t woken up, the kitchen could’ve caught on fire. Stupid phone. Stupid alarm. 

Alya tries to snap herself out of it. The thought of being akumatized again makes something uncomfortable roll inside her stomach. She almost wants to call Marinette and vent, but stops herself. She doesn’t want to bother Marinette with her problems right now. 

“Hey, Alya.” 

Oh goodness, not him. 

Adrien is walking up to her, and Alya tries to summon up a smile for him. It isn’t that she’s disappointed to see him, but she was sort of hoping that those strange feelings about him would go away as she immersed herself in her babysitting duties. Instead, they only seem to grow.

“Hey, Adrien. How are ya?”

“I’m fine. But are you okay? You look sort of...upset.” 

“Oh no.” Alya waves her hand in a lackadaisical manner, trying not to show how much it meant to her that he even noticed something was wrong. “I’m okay.” 

Adrien knows that she’s not, but he doesn’t press her. Instead, he looks skyward, watching the clouds go by. They stay like that for a good while before Adrien says, “Do you want to go to my house?”

  


Gabriel Agreste is beginning to expect these random visits from Ms. Cesaire. Adrien had invited over a few more times ever since she had apologized to him, and though he would never admit it, he was beginning to warm up to her. She was still a little overly polite in his presence, but he could tell she had fire. And she was a good friend to Adrien, that was always a plus. It was nice to know his son wasn’t hanging around the wrong crowd. Gabriel greets them at the door and leaves them to their own devices, heading to the kitchen. He’s supposed to be cooking dinner tonight, a task he finds more challenging than he initially thought. But he was never one to back down.

Adrien leads Alya into his room and gestures for her to sit where she likes. Alya sits on one of his couches. Well, flop is more like it. She sort of sat down and then tilted over onto her side like a wet bag of cement. Her face is obscured by her hair. Adrien sits down at his piano and plays a few notes randomly. 

“Is that Beethoven?” Alya asks after a minute. 

“Yeah, are you a fan?” 

“Uh, kinda? Like, I know of him, but that’s all. Him and that one guy! Uh…” Alya snaps her fingers, trying to collect her thoughts. “That Tchai...guy? The one with the swans?” 

Adrien laughs. “Tchaikovsky.” 

“Yeah him. He’s pretty cool.” 

Adrien hums in agreement. “It took me months to learn Moonlight Sonata--that’s Beethoven, by the way, not Tchaikovsky--”

“I know.” Alya giggles. 

“I think that one is my favorite.”

“Really? How come?”

“Well, mainly because it’s the easiest one to play, for me, at least.” Adrien’s fingers skirt over the piano keys. Alya sits up and watches him, brushing wayward strands of hair away from her face. It’s impressive. Adrien can play with his eyes closed, and he doesn’t miss a note. “So, are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“I already told you I was fine.” 

“Come on, Alya.” Adrien lets the last notes filter out before he turns to face her. “I thought we were better friends, you know you can tell me anything.” At this, Alya’s expression falls ever so slightly.

“You’re just going to laugh at me.”

Adrien raises a perfect eyebrow. “Name one time in which I intentionally laughed at you when you shared your problems with me.” 

Alya comes up dry, and Adrien nods knowingly. “Uh-huh. I thought so.” he slides out of his piano seat and goes to sit down next to her. “So, what happened?”

Alya ends up telling him everything, from start to finish. By the time she’s finished, her eyes are getting misty all over again. She does not want to cry in front of Adrien, and she looks to her lap, hoping to keep the tears back. Adrien peeks at her from the corners of his eyes. Alya was never one to cry in front of people, but Adrien feels compelled to comfort her, in some way. Hesitantly, he takes her and guides her head to his shoulder. Then, he intertwines their hands together, clasping her hand tight. 

“That really sucks, Alya.” he says. 

“I know.”

“Like, that majorly sucks. I didn’t know you had so many responsibilities to take care of.”

Alya manages a shrug. “It doesn’t matter, I ended up screwing things up anyway. I’m so stupid.” her voice trembles towards the end and Adrien squeezes her hand. 

“That’s not true, Alya. You’re just having a bizarre week. It happens to all of us at some point. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.” 

“I just can’t believe this is happening to me. This feels like a nightmare.”

“If it makes you feel better...that nightgown looked real nice on you.” 

Alya raised her eyebrows in slight surprise. “It did?”

“Yeah, it suits you. And if you ever need help with babysitting, you know you can always call me, right?”

“Adrien, the last thing you’d want to do is deal with two rambunctious twins all day.”

“I told you about my free time after school, didn’t I? I wouldn’t mind.”

“You’re too nice, Adrien.” Alya takes his words to heart, but she could never impose on him that way. But she appreciated the offer nonetheless. Alya likes the fact that Adrien is holding her hand, and she likes that she’s got her head on his shoulder. It feels nice, and it feels right. 

And she feels guilty. 

Granted, it was only romantic if she perceived it that way. Otherwise, it was just another friendly gesture from him, one of many. But she remembers Marinette, and her awful mood only worsens. She can’t do this, not to her best friend. Alya takes her head away from Adrien’s shoulder, and clears her throat. 

“So, you wanna show me a few notes on your piano?”

  


Later on, Alya leaves, and it’s nearing dinnertime. Adrien had enjoyed teaching Alya the beginning notes to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata and hanging out with her afterword. She had pursued his pile of books and they both did their homework together. After that, they spent most of their time parked in front of his t.v. Nathalie had been kind enough to bring up snacks for them.

Now that he thought about it, Alya was actually pretty cool. They had never hung out like this before. Usually, on the rare times that Adrien was permitted to go out after school, they usually hung around a group of friends. But them alone? One on one? That was new, and it was nice. After dinner, he goes to bed but he doesn’t fall asleep right away. He was too busy thinking about Alya. 

Until now, it didn’t occur to him that Alya had like, actual problems. Oh sure, everyone had bad days, and having parents that flipped on you was common. But he didn’t really understand the depth of it. Until now, he didn’t understand that Alya often ran herself ragged trying to take care of her twin sisters. He didn’t know that her parents had crazy schedules and sometimes weren’t home for days. He didn’t know that she often lived in her older sister’s shadow and tried hard to prove to her parents that she, too, could be responsible and dependable for them. 

She didn’t want to disappoint her mom and dad, who worked so hard and came home exhausted day after day. From her confident aura and optimistic personality, Adrien almost believed that nothing could faze Alya. She was just too sure of herself, too grounded in her own beliefs for anything to shake them. Listening to her admit all of this, and seeing her on the verge of tears really made Adrien see her in a new light. If it took her this long just to confide in him, Adrien only suspected that it was like pulling teeth with her if Marinette tried the same thing. 

And then something occurred to him.

Alya was sort of like Marinette’s number one cheerleader. Indeed, Alya was always there for her. Cheering her on, giving her a firm but gentle nudge in the right direction. Around Alya, Marinette bloomed, and they were practically joined at the hip. Adrien looked to the moon, watching the stars. 

Alya was always looking after others, so who was looking after her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> adrien is starting to notice alya in a new light, and things are going to get a bit more dramatic from here on out. enjoy!


	8. Chapter 8

Ever since Alya came over his house and opened up to him, Adrien takes it upon himself to get a little closer to her. For the next couple of days, he spends most of his time with her. They eat lunch and swap notes and he texts her after school. Adrien was serious when he said he’d help Alya out with her sisters, so when she offhandly mentions that she’s babysitting on Friday night, he joins her. 

Adrien knocks on her door at 5:30, and Alya opens it in a rush, her hair slightly windswept as if she had sprinted to the door. Her glasses slipped down her nose and she pushes them back up with a finger. 

“Uh, Adrien? What’re you doing here?” 

“I came to babysit with you!” he smiles down at her. “And I knew that if I told you earlier that I was coming over you’d try to stop me, so I showed up unexpectedly. Now you have to let me in.” 

Alya raises a perfect eyebrow. “Oh, do I? Says who?” 

“Says me, because you can’t resist my puppy eyes. Or anyone’s puppy eyes for that matter.” 

“Adrien, I really don’t think--”

“Who’s at the door, Alya?” Etta’s voice comes from behind her, and before Alya can protest, Etta has pushed her way into view. Adrien nearly dies on the spot. He has a soft spot for kids, and one look at Etta’s big eyes and pigtails lets him know that he’s a goner. 

“Hello.” Adrien kindly extends his hand and Etta shakes it. “What’s your name?” 

“Etta.” she replies. “What’re you doing here?”

“I’ve come to hang out with you and your sisters.” Adrien says. “If that’s alright with you.”

Etta regards him carefully, giving him a once over. She seems to be thinking deeply, her little eyebrows furrowed. Finally, she comes to a decision. “Well, okay.” 

Alya still looks hesitant. Her mother would kill her if she knew she let a boy into the house, but Adrien throws her one last big-eyed look and she gives in. She sets some ground rules, even though Adrien is practically a perfect houseguest. Shoes off, no snooping into other rooms and he has to leave before her parents get home. Alya was unsure about how the twins would react to Adrien staying over. The only person who ever helped babysit was Marinette, but it turns out that Adrien fits in seamlessly with them. When Ella warms up to him, she immediately pulls out the boardgames and insists that Adrien joins them. He doesn’t mind, and the next hour and a half consists of them all sitting on the floor, picking cards and moving pieces across the cardboard game. 

Etta and Ella are having so much fun that Alya doesn’t have it in her to tell them to quiet down. She gets up momentarily to check on dinner (no lasagna this time. Instead, it’s baked chicken, and it smells amazing.), Alya checks the side dishes, poking around in the pots before putting the lids back on and heading back into the living room. When she does, she finds Etta is gone. 

“Where’d Etta go?” Alya says, sitting back down and looking at the game board. What piece was she again? The shoe? 

“She went upstairs to grab something.” Adrien replies, moving his piece along the board. He looks oddly focused on this particular children’s game, and it almost makes her laugh. When Etta returns, there’s a strange clicking sound against the floors and Alya turns. Etta is wearing shoes several sizes too big for her and is currently struggling to get down the stairs, and what’s worse, those shoes are Alya’s. 

“Hey!” Alya exclaims. “Why are you wearing my shoes? I’ve told you a million times not to do that.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Etta seems unbothered by Alya’s irritation. “But I like the bows!” Upon closer inspection, Alya finds that Etta had taken her dancing shoes. Of course. The twins always liked her shoes, despite the fact that neither of them could fit into them. 

“Are those tap-dancing shoes?” Adrien asks, and he gives her a surprised look. “I didn’t know you danced.”

“Yeah, like, three years ago.” Alya dismisses. “I don’t know why my mom made me keep them.” 

“Can I see some moves?” Alya nearly balks at his request, and the twins cheer. On the rare chance that Alya did dance in front of people, Etta and Ella were always front and center. Alya could never say no to them. But dancing in front of Adrien? No way. Absolutely not.

“I don’t think so--”

“Please?” Ella wails, clasping her hands together. “Just a few steps? You’re so good!” 

“Yeah, yeah!” Etta is taking off the shoes and is shoving them into Alya’s arms. She sneaks a peek at Adrien, who is looking at her eagerly.

“No, put the shoes back, Etta.”

Alya spots a smirk growing across Adrien’s face and her eyes widen as she turns to face him. 

“Al-ya, Al-ya, Al-ya.” Adrien begins to chant and she points a warning finger at him. 

“Do _not_ start that--”

“Al-ya! Al-ya! Al-ya!” The twins join in as well, and soon all three of them are chanting her name with increasing volume. Alya is glaring hard enough to put a hole in the middle of Adrien’s forehead, but he just gives her that sly smirk of his and continues, completely unfazed by her expression. God, she hates him.

“Fine!” Alya exclaims, cutting them off. “Fine, I’ll do it. Just stop chanting.” Etta and Ella cheer while Adrien claps. Oh, she really hates him. She can’t believe she’s doing this.

Alya slips her shoes on and flips her hair, pointedly ignoring Adrien as she shakes her hands, as if she were preparing for a run and didn’t want to get cramps. Alya had taken tap dance of her own accord, having seen a Fred Astaire movie on t.v. once and being instantly smitten. Luckily, she still remembered the moves her dance instructor taught her, and she glides across the floor with all the flair and grace of a master.

It was the most ridiculous thing in the world, Adrien sitting with her sisters in the living room, watching as Alya tap-danced with a blank expression. It was so bizarre. Alya kept herself distracted with getting the moves just right so she wouldn’t focus on Adrien’s eyes on her. 

She finishes with a spin, throwing her hands awkwardly in the air once she comes back to her senses. She won’t admit it, but that was actually fun. Adrien claps, as do the twins. Quickly, Alya removes her shoes and forces off the blush steadily rising to her face. God, she feels so lame. 

“That was great, Alya!” Adrien is so sweet, Alya knows he’s not trying to embarass her. “You’re really good!” 

“It’s nothing, really. It’s...silly.”

“Not to me.” 

Before Alya can think of a reply, the oven dings and she sprints to the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready!”

  
  


After dinner, Alya cleans the kitchen while Adrien entertains the twins. Her mom should get home in less than an hour, so Alya makes quick work of washing the dishes. When the last dish is washed and all the food is put away in the fridge, Alya starts on the dining room, throwing away Etta and Ella’s paper plates and wiping down the table. When she looks to the living room, she finds that the twins and Adrien are putting on some sort of puppet show, complete with scenery and fake voices. 

It was...really sweet. Alya didn’t realize how good he was with children. She gets another text from her mom, who is only ten minutes away. Alya manages to get the twins to clean up the living room and put the toys away. Adrien helps the twins, who are stuck to his hips by now. They had really taken a liking to him, and the sight of their sweet smiles warmed his heart. They were so cute!

By the time everything is clean, Alya ushers the twins upstairs to get ready for their baths. They’re old enough to bathe themselves, but they were still capable of making a mess, and Alya wasn’t keen on the thought of having to clean up a bunch of bathwater. She leads Adrien to the door.

“Thanks a lot, Adrien.” she tells him. “The twins had a lot of fun.”

“Oh, no problem! I enjoyed myself.” he watches as Alya disappears for a moment and comes back with a wallet. She unclasps it and before she can take out any money, Adrien puts his hand atop of hers.

“Nope.”

“Huh?” 

“You don’t owe me any money, Alya. I did this because I wanted to.”

“Well…” Alya falters. “I know that, but you were still a big help. I don’t feel right having you come over here to help babysit and then not paying you for helping out.”

At this, Adrien gives a huff, and his blond bangs blow up against his forehead. “Alya, please. I’m the last person in the world who needs money. Call this a perk for being my friend. And for showing off your tap dancing skills.” 

Alya blushes, and Adrien can see something flicker in her eyes before it leaves in a flash. Alya reluctantly puts the wallet away. 

“If you insist.” she says, and let the subject drop. She gives him another grateful look and there’s something sweet, something shy, in her smile that makes his heart pound just a little harder. “Thank you again, Adrien. You’re great.” 

He brushes her off with a smile of his own and tells her goodbye.

Alya is standing on the front steps of her school, trying to catch her breath. While she wasn’t late for school, she had to power walk nearly the whole way to school after wrestling with her hair for almost ten minutes. Luckily, she made it in time, and she runs her hands through her hair. Despite everything, her hair still retains their curls. She’s taking a moment to soak in the sunlight, trying her hardest not to think about the fact that she has two tests to take today and she’s not prepared. 

Marinette has yet to arrive to school and Alya briefly sends her a quick text. She never understood why Marinette was often late for class despite living closer to the school. Alya waves to a few people entering the building and watches as Adrien’s limo pulls up to the curb. Alya had tried her best to smother the butterflies that would roar up in her stomach whenever she would catch sight of Adrien. But as he slides out of the car and walks up the steps, she finds those damned butterflies floating up against her will. 

Alya was still reeling over the fact that he had helped her babysit, and she can’t help but remember the feeling of his hand atop of her own. She’s so lost in thought that she doesn’t notice Adrien until he’s right beside her. He knocks his hips against hers.

“Lost in thought?” he tells her, and she blinks. 

“Uh, yeah. Sort of.” Alya replies, knocking her hip back. “Thanks again for helping out with the twins.” 

“Alya, you’ve thanked me at least ten times already. It’s no problem.” Adrien’s expression then turns coy, and he starts tapping his feet against the stone steps. 

Alya raises an eyebrow at him curiously. “What are you doing?”

“Dancing. Your little performance yesterday inspired me.” 

Alya gives a huff of laughter and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay.” 

“Dance with me, Alya.” he goes to take her hand, and Alya moves away from him.

“Oh no, once was enough for me--Adrien!” 

He grabs her other hand and pulls her close, causing Alya to have no choice but to awkwardly sway with him as they hop up and down the steps. The last thing she wants to do is fall over, but she also can’t stand the thought of anyone seeing them like this and starting a rumor. Surely, if Marinette were to see…

That snaps Alya out of it, and she tugs her hand away from him gently. She musters up at a smile. “Let’s get to class, Fred Astaire. I have some notes to look over.” 

Adrien nods and adjusts his book bag straps. “Alright. Lead the way, Rita.”

When the school day draws to a close, Alya puts her books inside her bag and shuts her locker, only to see Chloe leaning against the rows of lockers, arms folded. She has a weird expression on her face, a mixture of amusement and her usual arrogance. 

“I saw you dancing with Adrien on the steps today.” Chloe says, in way of greeting. “It’s like you’re not even trying at this point.” 

“Oh, please, Chloe.” Alya mutters and roll her eyes. “We were just joking around. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Chloe raises a perfect eyebrow. “I saw you staring at him all during class.”

Alya swings her book bag onto her shoulder. “I don’t have time for this, Chloe. I have to get home.” She begins to walk away, and Chloe’s next sentence halts her in her tracks.

“You like Adrien, Alya. I know you do.” 

Alya whips around to face her. Alya can’t bring herself to get angry and or even say anything in her defense. All she can muster up is a muttered, “Leave me alone, Chloe.” and speed-walks out the front doors. 

  
  


Alya’s thoughts are racing. She breezes down the sidewalk, her thoughts boiling down to one single phrase: _ I don’t like Adrien. _ She repeats this mantra all the way home and heads straight to her room. She dumps her bag on the floor and collapses into her desk chair, swiveling in circles as she tries to keep calm. Chloe was in instigator, she didn’t know what she was talking about. She wasn’t worth worrying about…

Alya spins two more times before her eyes land on a picture of Adrien, in that dashing red suit with the tulip between his teeth. Alya swipes it off her desk. Ugh, that stupid magazine! Why did she still even have this?! Frustrated, Alya tosses it into the trash and slams her head onto the desk. Chloe was wrong. She absolutely did not like Adrien Agreste, because she _ can’t _like Adrien Agreste--

Her phone buzzes next to her, and Alya turns. Marinette’s picture appears on her screen, and Alya swallows thickly. She lets the call go to voicemail and gives a sigh. 

Adrien lays on his bed, his homework scattered across his sheets. He thinks about earlier and his dance with Alya on the front step of the school. Adrien had always known that Alya was cool, but now that he’s getting closer to her, he finds himself seeking her company almost all the time. She was confident and funny and she_ tap-danced _, for goodness sake. Adrien remembers how completely blank her face was when she danced for him when they were babysitting her sisters and a laugh bubbles out of him. 

She was just so....alive, so vibrant. Alya gave him confidence, and he could relax around her. 

And…

And…

And when exactly did he begin to like her more than just a friend? The realization hits him like a punch to the gut. Was it when she came over to study with him? Or maybe it was when they made cupcakes together? No, that wasn’t it. Adrien was sure of it. He knew exactly when he started subconsciously liking Alya Cesaire, and that was when she strode out into the rain after telling off his dad, the large double doors of his cold mansion closing behind her. 

Yes, it was the rain. It started in the rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long wait. November has been quite a month for me. I promise to upload more frequently for now since i'm less busy.
> 
> ALSO did anyone read that tweet thomas astruc said that marinette is often late to class/gets detention often because she's so busy helping others as ladybug?? that makes me sad! marinette is so dedicated to her work.


	9. Chapter 9

Marinette is suspicious. 

She had been running late for school again, and had rushed out of the house with minutes to spare. For once, Ladybug duties didn’t keep her, she just had a hard time waking up that morning. Marinette had sprinted and weaved through traffic and people and arrived at school with windswept hair and a stitch in her side. She had stopped a few feet away from the front steps, hands on her knees as she desperately tried to catch her breath. God, she hated running to school. 

Once she was able to regain herself, Marinette has spent a few moments fixing her pigtails, and while she was doing so, she spotted Adrien and Alya on the steps. She was just about to call out to them when she saw Adrien take Alya’s hand and soon they were dancing on the front steps of their school without a care in the world, as if nothing else in the whole world existed but them.

Marinette had stopped in her tracks, her mind grinding to a halt before starting back up again. Adrien and Alya were friends, that was all. Friends danced with each other, right? Besides, the mere thought of Alya being interested in Adrien was laughable. Alya would never do something like that...Except Alya and Adrien reminded her of Rose and Juleka whenever they would dance. Happy, carefree….

In love. 

  
  


Now that she thinks about it, Marinette realizes that Adrien and Alya were spending a lot of time together. Alya was a selfie queen, and whenever Marinette was scrolling through her social media, she would see pics of Alya and Adrien hanging out together. Well, that was normal. Alya liked taking pictures of her friends, that didn’t mean anything, And it wasn’t like Marinette felt excluded or anything. 

But she caught the stares between them in class and the obvious way they would pass notes to each other in class despite the fact that Alya sat  _ right in front of Adrien. _ After that dance sequence on the steps, Marinette had watched them closely. They were in the middle of class when Alya tapped on Adrien’s shoulder with her pencil and asked what he got for question six on their worksheet. 

Adrien had answered and called her Rita, which Marinette didn’t understand. Alya had only smirked and said, “Thanks, Fred.” and Marinette frowned. Were they talking about Fred Astaire and Rita Hayworth? What did that have to do with anything? At lunch, Marinette had asked as casually as she could, and Alya looked embarrassed. 

“Oh, it’s nothing, really. Adrien came over to help me babysit and I was tap dancing for him, so he calls me Rita and I call him Fred--”

“Adrien came over your house?” Marinette interrupts. 

“Yeah, he was helping me babysit the twins. I would’ve asked you, but I know you’re so busy with schoolwork and helping in the bakery right now.”

Marinette had forced a smile and let the subject drop. She didn’t want to believe that her best friend and her longtime crush were hanging out together and giving each other cute nicknames. But her heart was doubtful, and something clenched in her stomach at the thought of them together.

As the days pass, Marinette only grows more and more disgruntled with them both. Alya was supposed to be her friend, and here she was, practically  _ clinging _ to Adrien every chance she got! It wasn’t fair, and Marinette decided to question Alya about it as soon as she could. An akuma attack distracts her and with dread, Marinette realizes that she’ll be needing Rena Rouge’s help. Great. 

Alya tried to ignore how...frosty Ladybug seemed to be today, trying to focus on the akumatized victim that was currently terrorizing the downtown area. Alya had been excited when Ladybug had swooped down and cornered her in a nearby alley. But all she did was plop the fox miraculous into her open hand and tell her to hurry. Alya didn’t think too much into it, Ladybug was a serious superhero after all. She had to remain professional at times like this. Rena shakes her head and focuses on the mission. 

Once the akuma had been defeated and order restored, Rena stays behind to talk with Chat Noir. He’s smooth-talking and ridiculously flirtatious as usual.

“How can anyone resist your charms, kitty cat?” 

“Girls can’t deny me, Rena. You should know that by now.”

“It seems like Ladybug is pretty resistant if you ask me.” Rena hums, and Chat Noir doesn’t appear to be deflated. Instead, he meets her sly smirk with a smile of his own. 

“Perhaps, but maybe there’s another girl in this cat’s life.”

Rena’s eyebrows practically shoot up into her hairline. “Really?! Who?” she thought Chat Noir’s love for Ladybug was eternal.

“Now you know I can’t tell you that, Rena. Secret identities, remember?” 

“Does this mystery girl know you like her?” 

Chat Noir’s eyes dart to the ground. “Not yet. I don’t even know if I should say anything. It just...feels right to me.”

Rena smiles and ruffles his hair. “Aw, that’s so sweet, kitty.” Chat Noir pushes her hand away and laughs. 

“Yeah, yeah.”

“But really, you should go for it, Chat! I bet this girl would like you back.” Chat Noir looks flustered, but his smile gets a little bigger. 

“Maybe...I’ll think about it.”

Rena’s necklace beeps, and she takes that as her cue to leave. “I gotta go. Keep me posted, kitty!” 

  
  


On Wednesday, Alya is running through the school halls, clutching her books tightly in an effort to keep them from scattering everywhere as she rushes to class. She rounds a corner, hair flying, and her sneakers squeak against the tiled floor. Alya is mentally ticking down the seconds until the bell rings and kicks it into high gear. She absolutely can’t afford to be late for class again, nor can she afford detention. 

As she’s running, something streaks by her, and Alya blinks. She stops at the same time Adrien Agreste halts in his tracks, turning around to face her. 

“You late for class?” he asks. 

“Yeah, fell asleep in the shower. You?”

“I saw a cat in the street and got distracted. Come on.”

They run together, with Alya carrying her books and Adrien adjusting his book-bag every couple of steps. 

“Hold on,” Adrien says, knowing full well that talking is just going to make him even more winded. But he can’t help himself. “Did you say you fell asleep in the shower?”

“Yeah,” Alya huffs. “It happens.”

“Alya, that’s...horrible, you know that, right? You could like,  _ actually die _ .” 

“I know, I know! I need to get more sleep. But I think getting distracted by cats is a little worse.”

“I won’t die if I see I cat.”

Alya nods her head. “True.” 

They make it just in time with seconds to spare. Ms. Bustier is just about to close the door when Alya and Adrien literally slide into the room. Flustered, breathless and shaky, they both nearly end up falling. If it weren’t for Adrien grabbing onto Alya, and Alya steadying them both, they most likely would’ve ran smack into each other. It’s a struggle to steady Adrien with her books likely squishing him, but Adrien lets go of her, and Alya shuffles her books and papers so nothing falls. 

They don’t realize that they have an audience until Alya notices that it’s way too quiet. Nearly everyone is staring at them, but Ms. Butier only smiles. She directs them to their seats, and Alya has to avoid complete and utter eye contact with Adrien or she’ll burst into laughter. She takes a quick glance at him out of the corner of her eyes and finds him trying to smother down a laugh of his own. 

Alya slides into her seat and Ms. Bustier commands the class, bringing everyone’s attention to the front. Alya fixes her hair and takes out her papers, hoping she didn’t lose anything on her sprint here. Alya is soon engrossed in her work, so she doesn’t notice Marinette staring at her. 

Class gives way to lunch, and Alya finds herself seated next to Adrien, Rose, Juleka and Mylene. Marinette sits between Juleka and Mylene, watching as Alya and Adrien share secret glances at each other. It makes her grit her teeth, and she tries to relax as she lapses into conversation with Mylene about homework. She feels bad, but Marinette can barely pay attention to what Mylene is saying.

Adrien and Alya are both eating burgers, and Adrien takes the pickles off his burger and places them on Alya’s burger. Alya had taken her bun off to add more ketchup and Adrien had placed his pickles, lightning quick, on top of her cheese. Alya looks surprised and gives him a grin. 

“What was that for?” she asks. 

“I know you like pickles.” Adrien says, completely nonchalant, and takes a bite of his food. To anyone else, it was just another one of Adrien’s friendly gestures. He was always doing that sort of thing. But it makes Marinette drum her fingers on the table, and her irritation only grows when she sees the pleased look on Alya’s face. 

Marinette sighs. It was going to be a long day. 

  
  


Alya sits on the front steps of the school, sunning herself. School ended minutes ago, but it was so nice outside that she couldn’t bring herself to go directly home. She’s thinking about walking to get some ice cream and wonders if Marinette would want to join her, when Adrien sits down beside her.

Alya can’t help remembering their race to class this morning and smiles. It’s getting harder and harder to resist Adrien and the kind way he looks at her. Alya hates herself for it, but she can’t help but realize just how  _ gorgeous  _ Adrien is. It was almost unfair, to be perfectly honest. No wonder why nearly every girl in Paris was fawning after him. He was smiling at her now, and Alya feels a strange heat wash over her, and she knows that she’s blushing to the roots of her hair. 

“Hey.” Adrien greets her, and he brushes his bangs out of his face. That just makes Alya’s heart do something funny in her chest and she mentally berates herself.  _ Get it together, girl. We are NOT doing this today! _

“Hey.” Alya casually responds. She fiddles with her hair and promptly asks, “Do you want to get some ice cream?” 

Minutes later they’re seated under an umbrella bench, scooping ice cream out of cups. Paris is light and happy, and the air smells like spring. Alya loves it when the weather is like this. Alya is trying hard to focus on her ice cream and not on the way Adrien is looking at her. He looks at her with a sweet smile, the barest hint of confusion in his eyes. It’s almost as if he’s trying to figure her out, as if he were just seeing her for the very first time today. It unnerves her somewhat. Alya chews on her plastic spoon. 

Alya knows she and Adrien have been spending more time together. She can’t help but enjoy it. Hanging out with Adrien was fun, and he was nice to be around. Nothing romantic was going to come from it, of course, so why did Alya feel so...guilty? She had nothing to feel guilty about. Right?

Right. 

_ Wrong, _ her brain supplies.  _ You know exactly why you feel this way. It’s because you know you’re being a bad friend. It’s because you like him… _

“Alya?” 

“Uh? Yeah?” Alya blinks, snapping back to reality. Her ice cream is partially melted in her cup and she hastily eats the rest of it before it can turn into soup. 

Adrien’s next words nearly make her choke. 

“Would you like to have dinner with me on Saturday?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i'm going to add more chapters to this story, ending it on 10 chapters seems a bit too short. please enjoy!


	10. Chapter 10

Alya is freaking out. She paces her room, socks shuffling against the carpet as she tries to calm herself down. Okay, don’t panic. This was nothing. It was nothing, right? Because that  _ totally _ didn’t sound like a date. Not at all. Friends had dinner together all the time, there was no need to start panicking. Alya had invited Marinette over for dinner before, and vice versa. This was exactly the same.

Alya takes a deep breath. Of course this was the same! She was just having dinner with a good friend.

_ A good friend with soft blonde hair and beautiful eyes and a million dollar smile-- STOP!  _

“UGH!” Alya says, smacking herself in the forehead. “Knock it off, you’re being weird! Stop being weird!”

“Everything okay, honey?” 

Alya jumps and turns around. Her dad is giving her a concerned look as he stands in the doorway. When did he show up? Alya has to remember to lock her door when she wants to start having a breakdown. 

“Yup! Everything’s fine.” Alya says quickly. She’s not so sure she wants to talk to her parents about this just yet. “Just normal...teenage things.”

Mr. Cesaire scratches his head. “Well, I never talked to myself when I was a teen, but okay. Have fun.” Her dad disappears down the hall and Alya flops onto her bed. What in the world was she going to do? She couldn’t possibly believe that Adrien actually wanted to go on a date with her. She had always believed that Adrien’s first date would be with Marinette. Thinking of her made Alya’s chest hurt.

Alya never thought of herself as a bad friend. In fact, she prided herself on being a pretty good friend and an all around nice person. Going to this dinner with Adrien makes Alya feel like a crappy BFF and a terrible human being. She can’t go through with this. She’ll just have to call Adrien and tell him she can’t come. Alya moves toward her phone and stops, a sudden thought coming to her. 

Adrien technically never said this was a date, right? She was just freaking out and over-reacting. Adrien gave no indication that he liked Alya at all in that way. They were just friends. And she had this really nice dark blue dress with red tulips on it hanging in her closet with shoes to match. She never got to wear it. Alya makes her way to her closet and thrusts it open. 

She eyes her pretty blue dress. Dinner inside Adrien’s fancy house sounded really, really nice. Was it so bad to indulge herself once in a while? She’ll go and have dinner with Adrien, and it won’t be any different from any of the other times they hung out. She’s not a traitor. She’s still Alya Cesaire, Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s best friend. 

It was going to be fine. 

  
  


Alya doesn’t tell Marinette about her dinner with Adrien. Oh sure, she had told herself countless times that this was in  _ no way a romantic dinner _ , but saying it out loud just sounded...wrong? “I’m having dinner with Adrien on Saturday.” See? It didn’t sound right! Alya sighs. She thinks about her dress. 

No. No, no, no. 

Alya shakes her head. 

She’s  _ going _ to this dinner with Adrien. As a friend. Nothing more. 

Saturday is days away, and Alya spends most of her time doing her best to act naturally. Just as long as Adrien doesn’t bring up their plans on Saturday, everything should be smooth sailing. 

If only her life was that perfect. 

The first half of Thursday morning is calm and peaceful. Alya breezes through her schoolwork and goes to the library to pick up a new book she had been wanting to read. Alya had exited the library, new book under the crook of her arm, and nearly walked right into Marinette, who looked as though she had been waiting for Alya for some time. 

Marinette gets right to the point. “We need to talk.”

The Kill Bill sirens are going off in Alya’s head as she and Marinette sit on a bench outside the school. Lunch is under way, and the hunger pangs mix uncomfortably with the dread pooling in her stomach. Alya quickly berates herself. She needs to relax! Nothing even happened yet. And nothing was  _ going _ to happen because there’s no way in hell Marinette knew about her plans with Adrien on Saturday. 

That is unless Chloe was eavesdropping again and decided to stick her nose in where it didn’t belong...Alya gives a hard swallow. 

Marinette looks as if she’s gearing herself up, face scrunched in determination before she exhales and turns to face Alya.

“Is...is there something going on between you and Adrien?” she says in a rush, a pained look on her face. “Like, romantically?” 

Alya freezes. “Uh. No.” she replies, and tries to ignore the twisted feeling in her chest. “Why would you think that?”

“It’s just...you two have been spending so much time together. And I saw you two dancing on the steps.” 

Alya can’t explain this strange feeling in her stomach. She’s not sure why she has to feel this way because there wasn’t anything going on between her and Adrien. For goodness sake, how many times did she have to tell herself this? 

“We were just goofing off, that’s all. You know I would never be with Adrien like that.” 

“I know!” Marinette cried, exasperated. She throws her hands in the air and drags them down her face. “I know. I’m sorry, Alya. I’m being such a freak.”

“You’re not being a freak, Mari.”

“Yes, I totally am. You’re my best friend, Alya. I know you’d never do something like that to me. I’m just being. Weird.”

The way Marinette visibly sags in relief makes Alya’s heart twist. She drums her fingers on her knee, eager to get this entire conversation over with. “So, is everything okay?” she asks, and Marinette smiles at her.

“Everything is great. I’m sorry.” Marinette wraps Alya in a hug and Alya closes her eyes. This is the time to tell her, Alya knows this. If they were being honest with each other, Alya should take it upon herself to tell Marinette about her plans with Adrien. The words are climbing up her throat, they’re forcing her lips apart. 

But Alya stays silent. She can’t say it. 

Marinette draws away and they both stand up. “Do you want to come over tonight?” Marinette asks. “We’re making chocolate pound cake for dessert.” 

“Yes! Yes, absolutely!” 

They leave and head to the cafeteria. 

  
  


Rena Rouge is sitting atop the Eiffel Tower, watching as Paris sparkles below her. Night patrol is easy. They rarely ever got Akuma attacks in the middle of the night, and it was sort of cool to go whisking through the city at night. Under the stars, Alya Cesaire was Rena Rouge and no one else. She didn’t have to worry about school or her home life or the fact that she was slowly falling in love with her best friend’s crush. 

Gosh, how did her life get so complicated?

She can sense more than see Chat Noir leap down beside her, silent as a shadow. 

“You know, you look pretty good in the moonlight.” 

Rena snorts. “You flatter me, kitty.”

There’s a pause then, “There was a significant lack of awe in your voice when you said that, which is unusual since you so obviously adore me. Maybe try again?”

This time, Rena laughs, and it’s genuine. 

“Did you tell your girl how you feel yet?” At Chat Noir’s shocked expression, Rena smiles. “I didn’t forget about that.” 

Chat Noir leans back on his hands, eyes to the stars. “Not yet, but I’m working on it.”

“Can’t you tell me who she is?” Rena asks, trying not to sound too eager. She wants to hear more about Chat Noir’s life, she needs a distraction from the tangled knot her life has become. Chat Noir begins to protest, and Rena gives a careless wave of her hand. “I know, I know, secret identities and all. But can’t you just give me something? Eye color? Height?”

“Oh, I see,” Chat Noir purrs. “You’re only interested because you’re jealous, right? I know it hurts, sweetheart, but we can’t be together. Romance between superheros is messy, but I’m flattered that you’re so deeply enamored with me.” 

Rena snorts with laughter. “You’re crazy!” she says, her voice carrying in the wind. She feels lighter already. Chat Noir tended to do that to her. 

There’s a beat of silence between them before Chat Noir says, voice low. “I’m having dinner with her on Saturday.” 

Rena nearly slips and falls off the Eiffel Tower. She jolts in surprise, giving a sharp gasp before Chat Noir throws out an arm to keep her from tipping over. 

“Woah, woah!” he says, panicked. “Are you alright?!”

“Yeah,” Rena says, voice shaking as she readjusts herself atop the building. She takes a deep breath, trying to deal with the fact that she very nearly died. The wind blows her hair about, and Rena suddenly feels a little uneasy being so high up. “Actually, I’d like to get down.” 

Chat Noir guides Rena safely back to the ground, gripping her by the waist as he used his staff to lower them back to earth. Once Chat Noir let go of her, Rena composed herself and gave him a grateful smile. 

“Thanks, kitty.” 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I guess it was just...vertigo, or something.” she shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant while her brain is whirling at top speed. “So...Saturday dinner, huh? That sounds exciting.” 

Chat Noir visibly brightens. “Yeah! I’m a little nervous, but I feel really relaxed around her, y’know? I think…” he trails off, and he ducks his head. “I think it’ll be really nice.”

The shyness in his voice, the low timbre of his words, has Rena’s stomach twisting in weird knots. Chat Noir was never shy. He was much too boastful and confident and silly, but that wasn’t a bad thing. Hearing him sound so...unsure and timid, and all for a girl, made him appear slightly different in Rena’s eyes. 

She smiled, meeting his eyes. “You’re gonna do great, kitty. Just trust yourself.”

And just like that, his confidence was back. It was practically oozing from his leather suit. “Oh, don’t worry. I plan on knocking this date out of the water.”

  
  


Alya lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her thoughts haven’t stopped racing since she and Chat Noir parted ways. Now, maybe she was just over-reacting, but what were the odds that Chat Noir had a date on Saturday night just like she did? Granted, she didn’t know anything about Chat Noir’s personal life, and she wasn’t going on a date with Adrien on Saturday. She had to stop calling it a date. 

But...now that she was thinking about it, Chat Noir looked a lot like Adrien, didn’t he? Alya shook her head. That was ridiculous, there were hundreds of blonde boys in Paris. Chat Noir could be anyone. Alya turned on her side, closing her eyes. She wasn’t about to lose precious sleep by trying to figure out Chat Noir’s identity. Ever since Alya eased up on the Ladyblog and her various theories on who Ladybug and Chat Noir could be, she was getting plenty of needed sleep. She wasn’t about to jeopardize that now. Chat Noir had a date Saturday, good for him.

Then again….

Alya rolls out of bed and turns on her desk lamp, rummaging through her drawers before she can find the magazine she was looking for. She had forgotten to throw that away, and instead stashed it away, thinking she’d throw it out later. Alya sits back on her bed, flipping through the pages until she finds that picture of Adrien, the one with the tulip in his mouth. It had been a while since she looked through this issue, so she had forgotten just how...handsome Adrien was in this picture. 

Alya shakes her head, cursing under her breath. Focus, she’s not here to ogle him. Alya gets up and grabs a black marker before sitting back down. With the cap clenched between her teeth, Alya draws a quick doodle of Chat Noir’s mask and ears over Adrien’s photo. Adrien’s hair was different this time, it was tousled and damp-looking, but Alya’s mouth drops open anyway. 

Her little doodle makes Adrien Agreste look like the spitting image of Chat Noir. Just to be sure, Alya searched through her phone and pulls up a picture of Chat Noir from her Ladyblog. There was no denying it. From the jawline to the mouth and the slender curve of his nose. And those eyes, they were exactly the same, despite Chat Noir’s eyes being just a little greener. Alya swallows hard. 

Okay. Well…alright. Alya caps her marker and puts it away. She crawls back into bed and stares at the picture for a good five minutes. Half of her brain is trying to be logical. There was no way that Adrien Agreste was Chat Noir! It just...it just wasn’t possible! The other half of her brain is jumping up and down, shrieking at the top of their voice.  _ It is him and you know it! The photos don’t lie. Who else could it possibly be?!  _ Alya feels strangely calm when she stows the magazine underneath her bed and turns off her lamp light. She burrows into her covers, eyes to the ceiling. 

So, if Adrien was Chat Noir, then that would explain a lot. Why he would suddenly make an excuse to leave the classroom only to return nearly an hour later. Why he would always look just the tiniest bit uncomfortable whenever discussions of Ladybug and Chat Noir arose, especially when their friends took turns trying to decipher who they really were beneath their masks. 

This just made Chat Noir’s Saturday date comment even more plausible. Alya wasn’t sure what to do now. Granted, she could be wrong, but somewhere deep inside Alya knew she wasn’t. Alya grabbed her phone and brought up her messenger, hovering over the keyboard as she pulled up Marinette’s name. She and Marinette had often talked of Ladybug and Chat Noir, and Marinette was no stranger to Alya’s ladyblog. But for some reason, Alya was hesitating to talk to Marinette about her apparent discovery. If Adrien really  _ was _ Chat Noir, shouldn’t he be the one to tell her?

Alya puts her phone away, turning over to her side as she closed her eyes. Suddenly, the prospect of having dinner with Adrien on Saturday made Alya all the more anxious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so. Time to get a little personal. 
> 
> 2019 was in incredibly stressful year for me, with my family having one crises after another, along with an incredibly stressful job that was negatively affecting my mental health. The tail end of 2019 was especially difficult for me. I had absolutely no interest in anything, and it was hard just to write even a sentence of this story even though I liked it. 
> 
> 2020, however, has blessed me with a much better job. I'm much more optimistic for the future, and I plan to take some bigger steps when it comes to my life. I fully plan on working out on a daily basis and getting myself a therapist, and I'm excited! I really think that getting some regular exercise and talking to a professional will help me in the long run, so I'm going for it! I'm sorry for neglecting this story for so long, so I will be making a schedule for updates. As of now, this story will be updated every Wednesday. 
> 
> Thank you for sticking with this story for so long, I hope you guys will enjoy this chapter. Happy 2020!


	11. Chapter 11

Saturday is fast approaching, and Alya feels terrible with each passing day. Shouldering the weight of her secrets along with the suspicion that Adrien might be Chat Noir was getting harder and harder. There were times when Alya wanted nothing more than to spill her guts to the nearest stranger, someone who would listen and remain impartial. Was it so wrong to do this? For once, Alya wants to be selfish. 

After all, it wasn’t her fault that Marinette never confessed to Adrien. If Adrien didn’t know her feelings than he couldn’t be blamed for falling for someone else, and Marinette....well, Marinette would just have to deal with that. Halfway through this train of thought, Alya shakes her head firmly. That was a horrible thought! And who even said that Adrien was falling for her, anyway? She was getting too big a head, and now she was criticising her best friend in all of Paris. 

Alya goes to school on Friday, buzzing with anxiety. She’s not sure how to approach Adrien, and she can’t even muster up the courage to fully look Marinette in the eyes. She’s a coward, plain and simple. It tears her up inside. Alya manages to hold herself together for the better half of the day before she darts out of class for lunch and hides in the bathroom. She hides in one of the stalls and wipes at her eyes, collecting herself before walking out. She isn’t surprised to find Chloe in the bathroom mirror, reapplying her eyeliner, but the sight of her makes Alya want to walk right back into the stall. 

“You’re falling apart, girl.” Chloe says, delicately swiping eyeliner over her eyelashes. “It’s pretty sad, actually.” she doesn’t particularly sympathetic, however, and Alya rolls her eyes. 

“Leave me alone, Chloe.” Alya shoots back as she approaches one of the sinks. She turns on the faucet and lets it run before she splashed some water on her face. 

“Honestly, I don’t see why you’re getting so upset.” Chloe replies, and winces when she accidentally pokes herself in the eye. “Ow, damn.”

Alya takes a paper towel from the dispenser to wipe her face and Chloe gives her a disgusted look. 

“Oh, Lord. Don’t use that, you’ll ruin your skin.” Chloe ruffles through her bag and pulls out a cloth. “Here. Pat your face dry with this.” 

Alya takes the cloth and is surprised to find just how soft it is. Alya pats her face dry delicately and awkwardly hands the cloth back to Chloe, who puts up a hand. “Keep it.” she says. 

Alya cleans her glasses and puts them back on her face. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” she confesses, with just a hint of irritation, and Chloe gives an exhausted sigh. 

“Look, Alya, do you like Adrien or not?”

Alya fidgets. “I--”

“Yes or no?”

“Yes.” Alya whispers meekly.

“Okay. Does he like you back?”

“I mean, I don’t know? We’re having dinner on Saturday.” 

Chloe fishes out her lipgloss and begins to apply. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ then. So what’s the problem?”

Alya gives her an incredulous look. “Uh, did you just forget that my best friend Marinette has been in love with Adrien since the first day they met?” 

“Has Marinette ever confessed to Adrien?”

“Well, she’s tried.”

“But she never succeeded, right? Adrien has  _ no _ idea that Marinette likes him, right? Not the slightest inkling?”

Alya sighs, crossing her arms. “No.”

Chloe applies more lipgloss before sticking the tube back inside her purse. “Then you don’t have any real reason to feel guilty. I mean, yeah it sucks or whatever, but if Marinette never said anything she can’t get mad if Adrien likes another girl and that other girl likes him back, right?”

“Well, I mean technically--but it’s not that simple! Marinette is my friend, my closest friend! I couldn’t possibly betray her like that!”

“So, what? You’re just going to let your chance with Adrien pass by? You’re going to spare Marinette’s feelings at the expense of your own?”

“Could you do the same if you and Sabrina were in this situation?” Alya counters. Chloe doesn’t seem to be listening, she’s rummaging through that enormous bag of hers and pulls out a pink headband, starting to fix her hair. 

“Yes,” Chloe finally responds. “I would.” Alya’s mouth drops open, and Chloe rolls her eyes. “If Sabrina had an enormous crush on Adrien but never confessed, and Adrien started liking me, and I him, and we decided to get together, Chloe would have no reason to get mad with anyone except herself because she didn’t do anything.” 

“But Sabrina is your  _ friend _ .”

“Yeah, I know. Sabrina might be mad at me, and that’s fine. She can be mad at me if she wants, but eventually she knows she’ll have to get over it. Because, ultimately, it all boils down to communication. If Marinette doesn’t communicate with Adrien, then she’ll get her heart broken. If you don’t communicate with Marinette, then you’ll lose your best friend. I guess you’ll both just have to decide if your friendship is strong enough to withstand this.” Chloe gives herself a satisfied nod in the mirror. 

“Also, you need to think about how lucky you are. Adrien is the kindest, sweetest boy possibly in all of Paris. Any girl would kill to be in your shoes right now. Take this chance while you have it, because it’s not going to come again.”

“How?” Alya says, and she feels even more hopeless than she did before. “How can you say that?”

Chloe gives a hapless shrug. “All’s fair in love and war.” 

She struts out of the bathroom, leaving Alya alone.

  
  


Saturday arrives and Alya wants to run away. She goes about the day in a fog until seven strikes. She puts on her dress and fixes her hair. She puts on her shoes, the nice ones with just a little bit of heel and grabs her purse. She tells her parents she’s going out and she’ll be back soon. 

And then Alya goes to Adrien’s house. She doesn’t mind the walk, and it gives her time to think. She could always call and cancel. She could stop by Marinette’s house and tell her everything before going back home.

But Alya doesn’t want to do any of this. She doesn’t want to explain herself and she doesn’t want to go back home. She wants to wear her pretty dress and eat with the boy she likes. Halfway to Adrien’s house, she stops in the middle of the road.

Suddenly, she knows just what to do. 

Alya calls Marinette on the phone and asks to meet her in the park. Marinette arrives in ten minutes, Alya can see her running across the street, waving to her, and Alya feels her heart pick up speed. 

“Hey!” Marinette says, stopping in front of Alya. “What’s up... _ wow. _ ” her eyes roam over Alya’s dress and makeup. “You look great! What’s the occasion?” 

Again, the words fail her. Alya can feel her knees shaking, it’s suddenly so hard to stand on her feet. But she has to say this, she has to. 

“I’m...I’m having dinner. With Adrien. It’s today.” At first, Marinette doesn’t respond, she looks confused, and Alya can see her trying to piece everything together.

“What? What do you mean?” Marinette asks, innocently confused. Alya can feel that familiar anxious knot in her stomach tighten. 

“I mean he asked me out to dinner with him, on Friday. We went to get ice cream and he asked me and I said yes. I was going to go but...I couldn’t. Not until I told you.” 

Marinette’s face grows from confused to hurt to angry in a matter of seconds. 

“Wow.” Marinette says, crossing her arms. “How big of you. So, what? You were going to tell me that you’re going on a date with the boy I’ve been in love with forever, and then you were just going to skip on over to his house and eat dinner with him?”

Alya shifts on her feet, uncomfortable. She knew Marinette would be upset, but Alya isn’t prepared for the full scope of her rage that was slowly revealing itself. They rarely ever argued, they just got each other too much to argue. They also communicated, that was the key. They  _ talked _ . Alya keeping herself from talking to Marinette in the first place is how they ended up here, and she feels so stupid. 

“I know you’re angry with me.” Alya replies. “And you have every right to. I didn’t mean for this to happen, Marinette, honestly! We just...became closer over the past couple of weeks. But...But I’m not going. I can’t do that to you, Marinette.”

“That’s pretty hard to believe, seeing as to how you’ve apparently been keeping things from me this entire time.” Marinette’s eyes are blue diamonds, hard and glittering. “I can’t believe you, Alya! You’re supposed to be my friend!” 

“I’am your friend! That’s why I couldn’t go through with this. You’re more important to me than some boy--”

“He’s not just  _ some boy, _ Alya!” Marinette exclaimes, throwing her hands up. “He’s the boy I’m in love with! I’ve always loved Adrien, and you know it! You purposely went after him and you lied to me that day we talked at lunch! You did have feelings for him, you still do!” 

“Marinette, please.” Alya begs. “I’m trying to make things right. Chloe said--”

_ “Chloe?” _ Marinette’s eyebrows nearly shoot into her bangs. “You’ve been talking to Chloe, now? I guess she knew all about your little crush on Adrien before I did, right?”

Alya swallows, but she continues anyway. “Chloe said that in order for this to work we needed to communicate. I should’ve came to you sooner and I’m sorry…”

“So not only are you taking the boy I love away from me but your taking advice from the girl who spends nearly fifty percent of her time harassing me in school?” Marinette’s words are bitter fire, and she’s giving Alya such a glare that Alya wouldn’t be surprised if she found a hole in the middle of her forehead later on. 

“Marinette, Adrien likes me too, why else would he ask me out to dinner? I’m not...I’m not stealing him away from you. This isn’t one-sided.”

“Be quiet!” Marinette snaps, and the hurt flickers across her eyes before it’s smothered by anger again. “I don’t believe he likes you. He...he’s never mentioned you! He never said anything!” 

“I know it’s hard Marinette but you have to believe me--”

“Any just why the hell would I do that? You’ve been lying to me this whole time!” 

Alya can feel a spark of anger ignite inside her chest. This isn’t how she imagined the conversation going. It’s quickly spiraling out of control and she’s useless to stop it. “You never told him you liked him!”

“I  _ tried! _ ” Marinette is starting to yell, their voices are echoing in the park. “You know I tried! Do you have any idea how hard this is for me?!”

“Of course I do! I know you tried, Marinette, but you can’t get mad--”

“Oh.” Marinette scoffs her voice dripping with derision. “You have  _ no _ right trying to tell me not to get angry or not--”

“Stop interrupting me!” Alya shouts, her hands curling into fists. “The fact is, you never told Adrien how you feel. He has no idea that you like him, so you can’t get angry when he sets his eyes on someone else. And..And I wish it wasn’t me, Marinette, even if you don’t believe me. It would’ve been so  _ easy _ if he liked someone else, but he doesn’t! Adrien likes  _ me _ , and there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t change his feelings, okay? The only thing I can do is tell you the truth and hope you’ll forgive me.” Alya pants, her words are strained and high-pitched and rushed together. Anger has made her breathless, and her chest is constricting painfully. The silence between them crawls along painfully. 

“It’s gonna be pretty damn hard to forgive something like this, Alya.” Marinette finally says. Her arms are folded again, and she’s looking off to the side. “You know what, I don’t care what you do. I hope going out with Adrien is worth the fact that you can’t be a real friend when it matters.” 

And then Marinette is walking away, leaving Alya all by herself. The park is too silent and the world is too big, and Alya feels too small to deal with any of this. 

Marinette is striding home, feeling her blood pump through her as she furiously strides down the street. Her eyes are burning, and she blinks rapidly. Alya’s words are circling through her head, making her lightheaded and miserable all over again. She wants to cry and scream and throw things until the beast inside her calms. 

A black butterfly floats in her peripheral vision and Marinette swerves to face it. 

“Don’t even fucking try it.” she snarls, and the butterfly rears back. 

Alya calls Adrien over the phone, and he picks up on the third ring. 

“Hey!” he says, and hearing his voice is the sweetest of tortures. “Are you outside?”

Alya doesn’t respond because there’s a lump in her throat, and she coughs before answering. “I’ll, uh. I’ll be there in a minute.” 

“Are you okay? You don’t sound so good.” 

The world is a blur of colors as tears fill Alya’s eyes, hot and unstoppable. She won’t be able to tell him everything that just happened, because then she’ll start crying and Alya knows she’ll never stop. So she tells one more lie. “I’m fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was going to upload this earlier but it took me literally all day trying to construct this argument between marinette and alya and try to make it believable. i don't know if i managed to do that, because arguments aren't really my strong suit when it comes to writing, but i hope you guys enjoy it all the same.


	12. Chapter 12

Alya manages to keep it together all throughout dinner. They’re alone in Adrien’s dining room, and when she asks where his father was, Adrien says he thought it would be a good idea if he left them alone for the evening. Alya stirs the soup around in her bowl. It’s sweet potato soup, and it smells delicious. She takes a small sip and musters up a smile, it’s good. It’s really good. The food is great and the candles are flickering under the low gloom of the dining room, and it’s all so _ romantic _ that Alya could just die.

She doesn’t deserve to be here, sitting with Adrien while her best friend was probably home crying. Adrien was making conversation with her, and Alya tries to listen and get herself as engaged as possible in what he’s saying. But all she wants to do is yell. _ I’m a fraud! _ Her mind screams. _ I’m a fraud and you’re too good a person to notice! Can’t you see that I’m a terrible person?! _

“...lya? Alya?”

“Huh?” Alya jerks slightly in her seat, spoon clattering against her bowl. 

“I asked if you’re okay,” Adrien says, blonde eyebrows furrowed together. “You look sort of...queasy.” 

“No, no I’m fine.” Alya gives him her best smile, but she can’t help but feel that it sours around the edges. “Everything is perfect.” 

Alya soon finishes her dinner and the plates are cleared away. Dessert is lemon cake, with a delicate white frosting and powdered sugar. It’s delicious, and Alya savors every forkful for as long as she can. 

Alya fully expects to take her leave once she’s finished her cake, but Adrien motions to the staircase and suddenly they’re walking up to his room. His room is neat, as always, but it’s full of furniture. Adrien has more furniture in his room than pictures or any other sort of personal items, which only makes Alya feel even sadder. Adrien situates himself at the piano and begins to play. 

Alya’s heart squeezes in her chest. Oh, Beethoven. They were supposed to play together, weren’t they? He was going to teach her. Alya fidgets in her shoes that suddenly feel much too tight on her feet. There’s no way he’d want to teach her now, not after she was about to spill her guts to him. Alya sits beside him, feeling her heart pick up speed once again. She summons her courage. 

“Adrien?”

Adrien stops playing, but his delicate fingers still hover over the keys. “Yes?” he asks, smiling at her. 

“Is...is this a date?”

Adrien sets his hands down onto his lap, leaning back a little. He takes a moment to respond. “Do you want this to be?” he asks and Alya swallows hard. She can’t tell him that this is what she’s wanted for weeks. 

“It feels like a date.” Alya says, skirting around the question. “And if this is, I’m...I’m flattered, really, but…”

Her sentence hangs in the air. Adrien doesn’t meet her eyes. “But what?” he presses softly, but she can hear his voice low with disappointment. It’s too much for her to bear, and Alya stands, walking to the window, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. 

“But I can’t date you, Adrien. I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

Alya grows confused. “Why what?”

“Why can’t you date me?” 

Alya bites her bottom lip, looking out his window. Paris is glistening with lights and her tears, and she begs the stars for help. “I just can’t.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” From the reflection of Adrien’s window, Alya can see Adrien stand and he begins to walk towards her. 

“Saying that you just can’t isn’t an answer.” Adrien presses, and Alya turns around to face him. “Tell me why, Alya. Be honest with me.”

“It’s because I’m a liar!” Alya bursts. “I’m a liar, okay? I’m not a good person. I’m selfish and sneaky and I’m not a good friend.” Alya chokes up halfway through, and every awful thing she’s been feeling about herself comes spilling out in waves of darkness. “I won’t be good to you, Adrien. You deserve someone who will treat you right.”

“Alya,” Adrien says incredulously. “Do you hear yourself? You’re not making any sense. You’re a wonderful person, and an even better friend. You’re the only person who managed to stick up for me with my dad. Not even Nathalie has done that. I don’t think you could be selfish even if you tried.” 

Alya laughs, short and broken and mixed with a sob. “You’re just being nice, Adrien. You don’t know anything about me.”

At this, Adrien squints, and his eyes are green fire. “Don’t patronize me, Alya. I’m not stupid.” Alya desperately wants to laugh at that. “We’ve been friends for years, I’d like to think I know more about you than most people.”

_ But not Marinette. No one knows the real me better than her. _

“If you’re going to reject me, Alya, the least you could do is be honest with me as to _ why._”

“Because!” its pathetic, she knows, but it’s all she can think to say. Why, oh why couldn't he just drop it?!

Adrien throws his hands up, exasperated. “Because what?!”

_ I can’t do it! _ Alya thinks, her thoughts racing hot inside her head. _ It’s not my secret to tell! _

When Alya doesn’t respond, Adrien crosses his arms, and there’s something sharp in his gaze. 

Alya swallows thickly. She’s never seen Adrien angry, and having his anger directed at her hurts more than she ever thought possible. She can’t hold it in anymore, and Alya bursts into tears. Adrien starts, blinking in surprise. He wasn’t expecting Alya to start crying, and she was crying so _ hard _ at that. All of his previous anger dissolved into worry, and he hesitantly reaches out a hand. 

“Alya,” he whispers gently. “Alya, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean--”

“Stop!” Alya heaves, wiping at her face, smudging her makeup. “Stop it, okay?! I don’t want to hear you apologize, this...this isn’t your fault! It’s mine!” 

“What do you mean…?”

Instead of answering, Alya sprinted to the door, wrenched it open and ran down the staircase. Adrien is frozen for a moment before he races after her. “Alya!” he shouts. “Alya wait!” 

He’s halfway down the steps when he hears the front door slam closed. 

Alya runs into the night, vision blinded by hot tears. Her race down those blasted steps and out the door has left her breathless, which doesn’t do well for her lungs already strained from crying. Her mind is a whirl, trying and failing to process the fact that she completely broke down in front of Adrien. The night would’ve been perfect. It all could’ve been so _ perfect-- _

Alya wipes at her eyes, but it doesn’t quell the insistent tears that cloud them over again. She heaves, trying her best to catch her breath. But it’s so _difficult_, her heart is pounding too hard. She’s desperate to leave, to crawl out of her own skin. Her brain feels like it’s overheating.

Feeling as if her legs had turned to jelly, Alya walks to corner, desperately trying to regain control over her breathing. Somewhere in her field of vision, the light turns green. Alya doesn’t think as she steps out into the street, her too-tight shoes clicking against the pavement. 

The sudden blare of a car horn causes Alya to jump nearly a foot in the air. She just barely registers the fact there’s a bus speeding towards her, so close and so fast that she can see the bus driver’s panic-stricken expression in the window.

Suddenly, something _slams_ into her back, and Alya, with her eyes squeezed shut, thinks it’s the bus ramming into her. Instead, she feels a swooping sensation in her stomach, and she’s being lifted into the air. Her eyes snap open, and she twists in the familiar grip of Chat Noir, who has one arm wrapped around her waist. 

“Don’t even think about moving.” he tells her seriously. “Or I’m going to drop you. Hold on.”

Alya clings to Chat Noir tighter, and he ends up landing on the roof of a nearby building. Alya is placed gently on her shaking legs, feeling her whole body trembling from fear and the rush of wind. 

“Are you okay?” Chat Noir asks, and it’s only then does Alya’s _ Adrien-might-be-Chat-Noir _theory hit her like a bolt of lightning. Alya looks into the green of his eyes and tries to get her voice to work. She could be wrong, but was right now really the best time to think about this? She nearly got run over! 

Everything crashes onto her all at once, and Alya laughs, sad and strained and slightly hysterical. She can feel tears welling up in her eyes again, and she takes a breath full of starlight, eyes to the moon. 

“I can’t do this.” she says weakly, running a hand through her hair. “My life is a mess, and I can’t do this anymore.” 

“Can’t do what?” Chat Noir asks gently. Alya takes a minute to compose herself, wiping at her eyes once more. To hell with it. To hell with it all. 

“I’ll tell you my secret if you tell me yours.” she says, voice serious and eyes determined. Chat Noir gazes at her for what feels like forever before he nods solemnly. 

“I have a friend, and I love him. I love him more than I’d like to admit. But my best friend loves him, too. She’s loved him since forever, and I’ve had to watch by the sidelines as she's tried time and time again to tell him how she feels. But she never did.” Alya takes a breath. “And I had to be honest. I told my friend that I was in love with the boy she likes, and that I was going on a date with him today. We got into a huge fight, and I may have lost her forever. This boy? We had a _wonderful_ time, but I couldn’t go any further than this. It’s...wrong. I can’t do that to my best friend, even if it kills me.” She’s crying again, and the wind chills the tears running down her face. “And then I walked out into the middle of the street like an idiot and I almost died.” 

She musters up some dignity and smiles, as if the whole thing was just some immature freak out on her part instead of an emotional breakdown. Despite it all, she still wants to keep her pride. “What about you, kitty?” Alya tries to sound light and unflappable, but her voice is too hoarse.

Without a word, Chat Noir holds up a hand, his expression is unreadable. Her purse, the one she left in Adrien’s house, is dangling by its strap from a claw. 

The world clicks into place. 

“I knew it.” Alya whispers. 

  
  


Chat Noir crouches in Alya’s windowsill. She’s sleeping in her bed, her glasses sitting atop a book on her bedside desk. They didn’t talk on the way home. The only thing she asked was how long he had been Chat Noir, and Adrien answered truthfully. 

“Since the fourth form.”

Alya didn’t say anything else, and he was rather relieved at that. He didn’t think he could handle having a conversation at the moment. Moonlight pours into her room, and Chat Noir watches as Alya shifts in her sleep. He feels a twinge of guilt. Poor Alya, this was a really terrible night for her. She was normally so strong, so resilient. Seeing her like that...it damn near made him cry. 

Chat Noir glances around her room and something catches his eye. Curious, he leaps down into her room, silent like a shadow. He peers at her desk, and sees an open magazine. It’s him, advertising that new perfume that was still incredibly popular despite it being nearly two months since it was released. Alya had this magazine? She had kept it, all this time? Suddenly, Alya groans, and Chat Noir tenses. He can't afford to get caught, and climbs out the window, shutting it softly behind him as he disappears into the night. 

A thought occurs to him as he’s leaping back home, and despite the heaviness in his heart, Chat Noir gives a small smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're nearing the end of this story, and I hope you all enjoy this chapter jam packed with as much angst as I could muster. 
> 
> my new job is exciting! but exercising is. hell :)


	13. Chapter 13

Alya wakes up with a roaring headache, and spends most of Sunday in bed. Her mother brings her tea but doesn’t ask questions, which Alya really appreciates. She checks her phone before realizing that Marinette isn’t speaking to her, and that just makes her feel terrible all over again. The fact that she’ll have to get up Monday morning to go to school and sit beside Marinette makes her queasy. 

The fact that she has to see _ Adrien _ as well, after her rejecting him and her little breakdown on the roof makes Alya want to lock herself in her room and never come out. She can’t believe that her life turned out to be such a complete mess in just a month. She never wants to see another person for the rest of her life. 

* * *

Marinette is sitting in her room working on a design for a new shirt when her father knocks on the door. It was coming along great, and she figured she’d be finished by Wednesday. Normally, she’d ask Alya to model it for her but, well. They still hadn’t spoken since their fight in the park, and Marinette wasn’t keen on the idea of talking to her just yet. She was still pretty angry about Alya liking Adrien. If need be, she’d just ask Juleka or Rose to model the new shirt for her. Her father gives a knock. 

“Come in.” Marinette says distractedly, and her father opens the door, his wide frame taking up the entire doorway.

“Hey, sweetheart. You have a visitor.” Marinette puts down her sewing needle and turns around in her desk chair. 

“A visitor? Who…” Marinette stands up quickly as her father makes way for Adrien, who is standing awkwardly in her room. “O-Oh, Adrien. What...What are you doing here?”

“Is this okay?” he asks, suddenly nervous. “I wanted to talk.” 

“It’s fine!” Marinette says quickly, and she gestures to her desk chair. “Please, sit.” Adrien walks stiffly into her room, and Marinette gives a nod to her dad as she shuts the door behind her. Marinette can feel her heart pounding in her chest, and that familiar buzz of anxiety is humming through her. What in the world is Adrien doing here? In her room? She didn’t even get a chance to clean up!

“What’s up?” she asks, and resists the urge to say, “Shouldn’t you be with Alya?” It takes everything in her not to become irritated and snarky all over again. 

“So, I wanted to let you know that I had a date with Alya on Saturday.” Adrien says, and Marinette swallows. So Alya _ did _ go to Adrien after their fight, even when she said she couldn’t go through with it. Marinette wonders how many other things Alya lied to her about. 

“Yeah,” Marinette nodded. “I heard.” 

“Listen, Marinette.” Adrien runs a hand through his hair, and all of a sudden, he sounds incredibly tired. “I know you like me, Alya told me. She didn’t want to, but I pushed her into it. I was trying to ask her to be my girlfriend and she rejected me. She did it because she knows just how much you like me and she couldn’t do that to a friend. It...hurts, but I don’t expect anything less from Alya. She’d do anything for you, you know that.” 

Marinette crosses her arms, feeling her skin glow with embarrassment. If anything, she feels even more irritated than she did before. That wasn’t Alya’s secret to tell! Adrien must’ve sensed she was upset, because he moved a little closer to her, the wheels of Marinette’s desk chair running over the carpet. 

“I know you guys had a big fight about it on Saturday, and I wanted to apologize.” Marinette’s eyebrows nearly shoot into her hairline. 

“Why should you apologize?” she asked. “Alya was the one who--”

“She put aside her personal feelings for you. I think...I think her love for you trumps anything else she might be feeling...even if those feelings include me.” Adrien says the last part softly, and suddenly the whole thing feels very unfair. “Look, I don’t know much about relationships, but I do know that a friend like Alya is worth keeping around for a long time. She already rejected me, Marinette. It would hurt a little less knowing you two were still good friends in the end.” 

“You don’t understand!” Marinette says, looking down into her lap. Her eyes are burning, and her mouth is turned down into a frown. “I...I’ve liked you for the longest time, Adrien! I’ve liked you longer than Alya ever has! She knows just how deeply I care about you, and she still went and...and fell for you anyway! She lied to me over and over again, and she still had the nerve to go out with you even after we fought in the park. That doesn’t sound like a friend to me.”

“People make mistakes, Marinette.” Adrien responds, trying not to sound too defensive. He’s almost certain Marinette wouldn’t be saying all of this had she seen how hard Alya was crying when she left his house. “You can’t help who you fall in love with, right? We aren’t fated to be together. There’s just as much of a chance that you would’ve fallen in love with Nino or Ivan or Mylene, right?”

Marinette bites her bottom lip, stinging at that. _ We aren’t fated to be together. _She blinks rapidly. 

“I guess.” she mutters. “But I didn’t fall in love with any of them. I fell in love with you.” 

Adrien is quiet for a long time after that. “When I came here, I wasn’t sure how to fix this,” he says, and then he’s standing up. “I realize now that it’s not my problem to fix. This is between you and Alya. I’m flattered, Marinette, I really am. You’re a wonderful girl but…I can’t pretend that my feelings for Alya no longer exist because she doesn’t like me back, and I can’t just sit back and watch as she puts your needs above her own. That’s the sign of a true friend. Who else in the world would do that for you?”

Marinette can feel her eyes water. In a way, he was right. She didn’t have a claim on Adrien, he was never hers to begin with. Alya was trying her best to fix things, but Marinette was still so angry that she couldn’t even see that. She was losing the love of her life and her best friend in a matter of days. 

“I’m sorry, Marinette.” Adrien whispers, sounding truly remorseful as he heads towards the door. “I really hope things work out between you and Alya.” 

Marinette waits until the front door closes before she lets herself cry.

* * *

Monday comes, and Alya is late to school. She doesn’t care, not in the slightest. She had a hard time eating breakfast, and stalls for time in the bathroom. She just...can’t afford to go into class and sit next to Marinette with Adrien in front of her for the entire day. Alya scrolls through her phone, ignoring the concerned texts from Rose wondering where she was. Not five minutes later, the bathroom door opens. 

“I thought I’d find you here.” Chloe says, and she smirks at Alya. “If you were trying to hide somewhere, you could’ve picked a place less...gross? There’s an empty supply room just down the hall.” Alya rolls her eyes. 

“I like being in the bathroom.” she retorts lamely, and inwardly cringes. Chloe snorts.

“Whatever you say. So, are you and Adrikins going steady yet?” Alya’s face visibly sours at that, and Chloe gives her a reprimanding look. “Oh, girl, do not tell me you chickened out.” 

Alya sighs, she really doesn’t feel like talking about this. “He asked me out and I said no. I’m not going to risk my friendship over some boy.” 

Chloe crosses her arms. “When you fall in love with someone, they’re never just some boy or some girl. Look, it’s your life, do what you want. But I would never pass up that chance for someone who might not do the same thing for me in return.”

“What?” Alya looks up at Chloe. “Marinette would absolutely do the same thing for me.”

“Are you sure about that?” Chloe asks, and Alya falters. She’s...she’s not sure, and they both know it. Alya feels more conflicted than ever before, and she wants to sink into the tiled floor. Something akin to sympathy flashes over Chloe’s face, and her expression softens.

“Okay, loser. Why don’t you spend the day with me?” That takes a moment to register in Alya’s brain, and for a moment she thinks maybe she’s gone slightly deaf. 

“What?”

_“Ugh!”_ Chloe grabs her arm and drags her out of the bathroom. “Just come on!” 

Chloe swaggers into the classroom with Alya practically tripping over her feet behind her. They make their way up the stairs. 

“Move.” Chloe orders Sabrina, and the girl complies immediately. Chloe drags another chair over and pushes Alya into the seat so that she is sitting between Chloe and Sabrina. Ms. Bustier appears flummoxed, but clears her throat and moves on with the lesson. Alya can’t afford to look anyone in the eye, and instead takes out her books and tries to focus on the lesson. Halfway into it, when she’s certain nobody is looking at her, she allows herself to smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i'm sorry about the delay in this fic. i got sick on tuesday and had horrible period cramps that left me in bed for all of tuesday and wednesday. i'm much better now, and we only have one more chapter to go before this story is finished. enjoy!


	14. Chapter 14

The day goes by like that, with Alya sticking to Chloe and Sabrina like glue. Chloe mentions to Sabrina that Alya is joining them for lunch during class and her voice leaves no room for argument. Sabrina is unfazed and goes along with it, but Alya always sort of liked Sabrina. When she wasn’t at Chloe’s heels like a lapdog, she was actually pretty nice to be around. Chloe’s invitation was weirdly nice, but Alya couldn’t help but feel like she was betraying Marinette all over again. She had managed to catch a glimpse of Marinette’s shocked face when they first walked into class and it was hard to shake. 

Lunch rolls around and Chloe strides them towards an empty lunch table, swaggering as if she owned the entire cafeteria. Alya swore a small stream of students parted just to make way for her. Alya feels a little strange sitting with Chloe, but she reminds herself to be grateful. This day would’ve been ten times worse if Alya had to endure an entire day of sitting next to Marinette and being alone at lunch. 

“So.” Chloe says, popping open the lid to her sushi container. “Spill.”

“I already told you--” Alya begins, and Chloe interjects. 

“Actually, you didn’t tell me anything.” Chloe rips the wrapper off her chopsticks and pulls them apart. Sabrina looks interested and crosses her legs, leaning her elbows on the table as she stirs her pasta around with a fork. “Start from the beginning, and don’t get all teary-eyed on me.”

Alya feels trapped, she isn’t comfortable with Chloe and Sabrina knowing all the details about her disaster of a personal life, but they don’t appear to be taking no for an answer. So Alya sighs, poking at her salad and starts the story with her riding Adrien to his house on her bike in the rain. The story takes up a good portion of the lunch period, and by the time Alya finishes, there’s only ten minutes left. 

“...and I just...ugh! I don’t know what to do!” Alya stabs at her salad with a vengeance and chomps on it. “Marinette won’t talk to me, and I’m not ready to speak to her. Adrien…” Alya swallows and looks down at her lap. “Adrien is so nice, I hate having to break his heart like that.” She leaves out the part about him being Chat Noir, and that particular piece of information still makes her shivery. 

Sabrina looks sympathetic, and Chloe unwraps a small box of cookies and lets Sabrina take some before she shoves the container to Alya. Alya takes a chocolate chip cookie.

“Seems like you and Marinette need some time apart.” Sabrina speaks up timidly. “Just for a little while, in order to sort through your feelings.” 

“What about Adrien?” Alya asks. 

Chloe shrugs, digging for a cookie. “Well, you already rejected him. The least you could do is talk it out with him so he doesn’t feel quite so depressed.” Alya’s shoulders slump and she gives a huff. 

“Why is life so complicated?” she bemoans, and Sabrina reaches around to place a slender hand on top of her own.

“It won’t be complicated forever.” she says. “And you can always hang out with us until things get smoothed over. She can do that, right, Chloe?” 

“I don’t care.” 

Sabrina smiles over at Alya, and Alya feels genuinely comforted for the first time in days.

  
  


School lets out and Alya all but sprints home, saying goodbye to Chloe and Sabrina on the way out the door. She wants to see Adrien and talk with him. Alya wasn’t too receptive to the idea at lunch, but Chloe did have a point. If she can’t fix things with Marinette just yet, the least she can do is try with Adrien. Alya can’t see him no matter how hard she looks, and eventually pulls out her phone to text him. 

Alya weaves through the busy sidewalk, glancing up periodically. Her fingers just brush over the keyboard when she nearly walks straight into Marinette. She just manages to look up from her phone and stop in her tracks, they’re so close that their foreheads are nearly pressing together. Alya rears back, and that horrible feeling in her stomach returns. She wonders how long these terrible knots in her stomach are going to last before they kill her altogether. 

“I gotta talk to you.” Marinette begins, not giving Alya a chance to respond. 

“I’m not in the mood.” Alya says and walks right past her. Marinette has to jog to catch up to her since Alya’s legs were much longer than hers. 

“Look, I know we’re not speaking right now, but what I have to say is important. Can you please just stop for a minute?” 

Alya sighs and puts her phone away. Marinette leads them to a secluded spot near the school, where there aren’t so many people. Alya isn’t sure she’s ready to talk to Marinette just yet, especially if they’re just going to argue again. Right now all she wants to do is text Adrien and go home to lay in bed.

“What is it?” 

For once, Marinette looks uncomfortable, and Alya almost wishes she could feel good about that. It would serve her right for all those awful things she said when they were at the park. 

“I understand if you don’t want to talk to me right now, and...and I guess I can understand your point about Adrien. Or, at least, I’m _ trying _ to understand. It’s not that easy for me. But he came to talk to me yesterday and said that you were trying to make things right. It wasn’t right for me to have a claim on Adrien when he was never mine to begin with, so I can’t exactly blame you for liking him….or for him liking you back. Granted, I’m still angry with you, and I don’t know how long it’ll take me to get over this thing with Adrien. So for now, I think we should just give each other space.” 

Alya blinks, and something hot is blocking her throat. She knew Marinette made sense when she suggested they spend time apart, but it still hurt to hear all the same. 

“I’m sorry for not telling you.” Alya says, and her voice is a whisper. “But I think you’re right. Spending time apart might be best.” she notices the way Marinette wrings her fingers together, something she only does whenever she’s really upset. There’s an ache in Alya’s heart that cuts even deeper as the full implications of this separation hits her. Suddenly, she’s afraid that her friendship with Marinette might really be over. 

They go their separate ways. 

  
  


Alya spends the rest of the day in bed after finishing her homework. She had texted Adrien, but he had yet to answer. It made her anxious, so she put her phone away and decided to watch hours of mind numbing television instead. She only leaves her room to eat dinner and makes small talk with her parents over spaghetti. They must’ve known she wasn’t feeling great, because they kept their prying to a minimal. 

Night falls, and the first batch of stars are seen in the sky. Alya is working on her second bowl of ice cream and is halfway into a two hour _I Love Lucy_ marathon when her phone begins to buzz. Alya wiggles her way out from underneath her blanket cocoon and reaches for her phone. A text from Adrien has her heart flipping, and she reads over it carefully several times, despite it being only a single sentence. 

_ Meet me at the Eiffel Tower. _

Alya sneaks out of her house immediately. It’s not that late, but she doesn’t feel like making up an excuse to her parents, and they don’t like her going out when the sun goes down. Sneaking out was her best option for now. She takes her jacket, her phone and slips out of the house like a phantom. Paris is quiet but still bubbling with activity, and Alya keeps her eyes peeled for any police officers.

She’s only halfway down the block when a sleek black limousine pulls up alongside her and the window is rolled down. Alya stares into the stony-faced man that is Adrien’s personal driver. He looks bored, mouth turned down into a disinterested frown and his voice is deep when he speaks to her. “Ms. Cesaire?”

“Uh, yes?”

“Get in the car. Adrien is expecting you.” 

Alya does as she’s told and quickly clamors into the limousine. It still smells fresh and clean and Alya relaxes into the leather seat as the car drives off into the night. It takes them a while, but eventually they make it to the Eiffel Tower and Alya slips out of the car. She takes a look around, but finds the place empty save for a strolling couple or two. 

“I don’t see anyone.” she says and the driver points a large finger in the direction of the tower. 

“He said he’d be waiting for you over there. You’ll see him eventually.” he doesn’t seem particularly concerned that Alya is just..._standing_ around awkwardly. He rolls the window back up and drives off, and Alya feels a little affronted. Was he just going to leave some highschool girl in the middle of town like this? How was she going to get home? 

Not a second after the driver leaves, Chat Noir drops down beside her like a shadow carved from the darkness. Alya turns to face him, and she feels strangely nervous staring into the electric green of his eyes. _ This _was Adrien Agreste, long time friend and the holder of her heart. The fact that he was one of the superheroes she had been blogging about for years only made him that much more...irresistible? Incredible? Alya can’t put her finger on the right word to describe him. 

“Good evening, my Lady.” he purrs, exuding that same familiar confidence. “It’s good to see you.” 

“Likewise, kitty.” Alya instinctively retorts, and suddenly she sounds like Ladybug. If only she were that brave. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” 

“I was hoping you would come with me.” Chat Noir extends his hand to her, and Alya takes it without preamble. He pulls her close, wrapping one arm around her waist. 

“Where are we going?” Alya asks, beginning to cling to him nervously. If they’re about to take off into the air, she wants to brace herself.

“To the very top of the Tower. Hold on tight.” Alya feels her breath escape her as Chat Noir launches into the air. The wind is fierce enough to blow her hair about and create tears in her eyes despite her glasses. The world rushes into blurs of black and blue with smudged dots of yellow light. Alya doesn’t fully relax until her feet touch the roof of the Eiffel Tower and Chat Noir slowly unwraps his arm from around her. 

“This is nice.” Alya says, trying not to look over the edge of the building. She was never afraid of heights as Rena Rouge. “But why are we here?” 

“I wanted to speak with you.” Alya resists the urge to scream into the night. Why did everyone want to talk all of a sudden? All it ever did was leave her hurt and angry. 

“Okay, but is your driver going to take us back home? Because he kinda just drove off and left me here.” 

“I’ll be your escort home, darling.” 

“Well, if you wanted to talk why did you decide to do it here? And why are you Chat Noir? Why not talk as y’know, yourself?” 

Chat Noir’s air of confidence falters, and his ears almost seem to press flat against his skull. “It’s easier to talk to you like this. I’m not sure why.”

Alya nods. “I get it.” she responds, and she does. 

“How are things between you and Marinette?” he begins. 

“Tense. Awkward. But we’ve reached an understanding, of sorts.”

“I saw you hanging out with Chloe and Sabrina today.”

“Yeah, she offered. She’s kinda, like, nice? It’s a surprise.”

“I know! But then again, I always knew Chloe had a soft spot somewhere deep inside. You two might become friends.”

Alya shrugs. “Stranger things have happened.” she swallows hard. “I’m sorry about our date. I really didn’t want to hurt you like that.”

Chat Noir gives a hapless shrug, but there’s a pain underneath his lazy smile that makes Alya’s chest tighten. “It won’t be my first heartbreak, Alya. I understand, Marinette means more to you than anything. I just hope I didn’t ruin everything between you two.”

“No, you didn’t ruin anything! This wasn’t your fault at all.” Alya runs a hand through her hair, feeling her eyes start to burn. “This whole situation is just really unfair.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Chat Noir steps closer to her, and she can feel the heat radiating off of him. The moonlight makes his green eyes strange, bewitching. Alya Cesaire is being pulled into his orbit with no idea how to stop. “But...if it’s not too much to ask? If...If I can’t have you as Adrien, then for one night, may I have you as Chat Noir?”

Alya feels herself nodding, and she closes her eyes and sways on her feet, and suddenly Chat Noir is kissing her. It’s gentle and soft, a whisper of a kiss. Alya leans into it, and the pressure makes her knees weak. There’s a roaring fire swirling in her, starting from her knees and traveling to her chest. This is what she wanted, Alya realizes. This was her wish. She wanted nothing more than to go out with Adrien and give him a kiss, and it suddenly seemed as if the world had failed her. She thought that maybe this was punishment for being a bad friend, that the stars would never align in her favor.

But maybe she was wrong. If she couldn’t have him at all, if she had no chance, then this was her last option. The universe was granting her her one wish, just in a way she didn’t expect. Alya Cesaire would kiss Adrien Agreste only once and never again, and it hurt her deep inside her bones. 

Chat Noir pulls away, and Alya can barely see him through the tears in her eyes. She wants to savor this kiss for as long as she was allowed. 

“That was really nice.” she whispers, and Chat Noir’s mouth is breaking into a sad, bitter frown.

“Yeah, it was.” he replied, and there was never a sadder sound in all the world.

Chat Noir takes her home, and helps her climb back into her bedroom. Their hands linger together for a moment or two before sliding away from each other, like a thread finally snapping in the middle. 

“Thank you.” Alya says, and she thinks it’s odd that her voice can’t rise above a whisper. Anything louder would break the moment. 

Chat Noir whips out a hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles. “Of course, Alya.” Alya can see him swallow visibly as he lets go of her hand. His green eyes flicker over her shoulder for a second before landing back on her. “There’s a gift for you on your bookshelf. Goodnight, Alya.” 

A gift? Alya turns and sees something on her bookshelf, but when she turns back around, Chat Noir is gone. The only sign of him was the swish of her curtains. 

Alya goes to her bookshelf and finds a perfume bottle sitting next to her music box. It’s designer, a sleek crystal with soft red liquid and shimmering glitter. A red ribbon is tied to it, with a small card attached. Alya gently picks it up and reads the card. She recognizes Adrien’s neat handwriting. 

_ Thank you for taking me home. _

She keeps it by her bedside desk and spends the night with her eyes on the moon.

  
  


Three weeks later, a package is delivered to her. Alya is in her pajamas when her mom brings it into her room. Inside the wrapping paper is a blouse of shimmery lavender, with pale white buttons and small white flowers stitched into the fabric. There’s a note that falls to her feet, and Alya picks it up.

_ Model it for me when you have the time? -Marinette. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END! this took a long time to write because i wanted to get the ending just right. it's supposed to be sort of bittersweet?? i don't know if i accomplished that or not. thank you all for reading my simple story this far, i really appreciate all of your kind comments and kudos! i hope you enjoy the final chapter.


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